Changes
by polikjum
Summary: Struggling under the strain of his mission and the unbearable responsibility that comes with being a Death Eater... Draco Malfoy finds comfort in an unlikely source. Together they discover love and a destiny greater than they can imagine. -This is a SLASH fic. More warnings listed in first chapter.-
1. Love

_(A/N: Rated _**_M_**_ for mature content and language. _

_So... my muse went in a rather different direction with this one. __The chapters will be rather short and I'll try my best to update frequently._

_Warnings: (male) slash fic. Smut here and there. Adult language/situations. Unstable persons. Character death likely. Light to medium Golden Trio bashing. Darker themes (angst?). Highly probable OOCness. Creature fic. Non-canon/EWE. (I think I'll only put up a warning if something new pops up that I think requires a heads-up; otherwise, this be your only warning.) Reviews and feedback are always welcome. _

_Enjoy! :)) _

* * *

Colin Creevey shifted the camera strap around his neck, holding his precious to his chest as he slunk along the wall. He didn't want it to bang around or make a sound that would alert the other person in the hallway to his presence. He'd long ago mastered cushioning charms, so his shoes aren't a problem anymore.

His eyes were firmly on the retreating back of Harry Potter, watching carefully as Harry walked down the hallway, apparently oblivious to the eyes on him. Colin would be offended but Harry was always being watched; what was one more pair of eyes on the Golden Boy's back? He snuck down the hall, keeping his back against the wall so he could unobtrusively keep Harry in sight. Colin eagerly watched Harry move, his eyes roaming and taking in every detail. He loved how Harry walked; always erect and confident, his gorgeous emerald eyes flicking around as he surveyed his surroundings. He was sure he was the only on that noticed Harry's right hand -his wand hand- never swung as he walked. It always stayed right by his side, as if the older boy expected the need to whip his wand out fast at any moment. He shivered delightedly; Harry Potter was powerful, sexy and brave. It didn't hurt that he was convinced Harry liked blokes too. _He_ watched. He _noticed_. So what if that bloke wasn't him.

Yet.

It was a slight surprise the older boy was alone; Colin rarely saw him without that annoying know-it-all witch Hermione that liked to boss the boys around or the tall red-headed Weasley boy that frequently rolled his eyes whenever he'd worked up the nerve to say 'hi' to Harry. They always flanked him, like body guards. Recently he noticed Weasley's little sister following Harry around as well, like a lost little crup, trailing behind the trio as they went about. He didn't care, she wasn't a threat. It was obvious by the way Harry would only smile indulgently at her, never touched her (and shy away the occasions the annoying little red-head would touch _him_) and didn't include her when he went off somewhere important with the other two. He didn't include Colin, but he didn't block him either.

Colin watched as Harry disappeared up the revolving staircase that lead to Dumbledore's office. He sighed and hid himself in the closest alcove, resigned to wait for Merlin knows how long until Harry came back out. Harry's been visiting Dumbledore a lot recently and he finds himself feeling slightly uneasy and more than a little jealous. Oh, he wasn't worried there was anything untoward happening but the old man was taking up entirely too much of Harry's time. He couldn't follow and watch when Harry was in there either; it was all rather annoying.

He sighed quietly again and fiddled with his camera to help pass the time. He'd finally found a charm that would make his flash invisible but still illuminate his photos properly. He was proud of his accomplishment since it let him take more pictures of people -mainly Harry- without them being aware of it. He was especially proud of the picture he was able to get of Harry in the Gryffindor Quidditch locker room. Oh yes, he'd nearly worn that one out, if such a thing were possible. He'd joked of the Galleons he could make of the photo when it was discovered by one of his dorm-mates but Colin had no intention of _ever_ sharing it. He reverently stroked his camera lens, lost in thoughts of adding more pictures of Harry to his steadily growing pile. It was getting harder and harder to get pictures with just Harry in them though. Colin had to really work at his focusing and cropping charms.

Colin jumped in surprise when the gargoyle statue moved aside a lot earlier than he'd anticipated. He quickly, and quietly, put his camera back around his neck and waited for Harry to move. He watched, a clenching in his chest, when Harry slumped against the wall with a shuddering sigh and a hand over his eyes. He had to fist his hands to keep himself from rushing over and smothering Harry in his arms and kisses. As much as he wanted to comfort the older boy, he knew no one liked being intruded upon. It was one thing to follow Harry but quite another to alert the other boy to his presence, especially in what was obviously a private moment. He fisted his hands tighter, feeling his nails dig into his palms absently, when he heard a choking sob come from Harry. Luckily, Harry pushed away from the wall and swiftly made his way down the hallway, not even glancing at the alcove he'd been hiding in and saving him from reacting rashly.

"Poor Harry," Colin whispered aloud once he was safely alone. He quickly scrambled up and continued following Harry, not at all surprised they headed directly to Gryffindor tower. Before they could reach the portrait hole he rushed forward and quietly called out to Harry. "Harry!"

Harry turned and tried not to groan aloud. Of all the people to run into, Colin Creevey was the last on Harry's list. It was getting harder and harder to be nice to the over-excited boy. It creeped him out more than he could describe to be on the receiving end of such fierce attention. He really wasn't so oblivious as to not notice the less than innocent looks from the younger boy. "Yes, Colin?" he asked with a barely suppressed sigh, restraining the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose or rub his temples in annoyance. He was already fighting a headache and this was not helping...

"Are you alright?" Colin asked, edging closer. "You look upset. You shouldn't frown, it just doesn't look good on you," he said and flushed furiously. He licked his lips unconsciously as his eyes rested on Harry's own reddish lips. Colin wondered if they tasted like berries since they looked kind of like them.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry mumbled, stepping back towards the portrait hole. He'd been cornered by the younger blonde before but rarely had the other Gryffindor made him feel even this uncomfortable. He didn't care Colin was a bloke, but it was unnerving because it was _Colin_. Harry narrowed his eyes when Colin stepped closer and his wide brown eyes flicked all over his body with eager looks. He had to fight the urge to squirm or shove the smaller boy away from him.

"You _are_," Colin breathed, blushing at the attempt at innuendo. "But I was talking about your emotional state, Harry. You shouldn't be upset, I can help if you want. I don't mind at all. I think it'll be good for you, you know? I can help."

Harry slowly shook his head and held up a hand. "No, thank you, Colin. I'm alright."

"Are you sure, Harry?" Colin asked, stepping closer again. He was not watching Harry's face close enough or he would've clearly seen annoyance flicker across the older boy's face. He was only watching Harry's body move, admiring the sleek, lithe form. He was not aware that said body was now tense as Harry eased backward, he was only focused on the way Harry's school shirt was pulled across his surprisingly toned chest and stomach. "I'd do anything for you," he said sounding a little breathless, reaching a hand out.

"Yes, I'm sure," Harry ground out, trying not to snap. "Look, I need to-"

Colin cut off whatever Harry would have said by easing closer to him with surprising speed and pressed himself against Harry's front. He wanted to frown when Harry stiffened, since it wasn't in the right way, but he smiled instead as he looked up at Harry. "I can help," he repeated. "Whatever you need, Harry. I'll do it." He pressed closer, stumbling a little when Harry backed up quickly. "Go to Hogsmeade with me?" he blurted. He hadn't meant to say that, but he didn't regret it. He did want to go to Hogsmeade with Harry...

"What? No; I'm not going," Harry hissed, surprised and frustrated Colin hadn't left him alone yet. "I wouldn't go with you even if I was," he added, feeling like a bastard when Colin jerked back with hurt plain on his face. He bit his tongue on an apology though, hoping it'll help Colin realize he doesn't like him in that way (or at all really, but he's not _that _cruel) and leave him be. Even if he could go, he'd probably ask Dean...

"Oh," Colin quietly muttered. "Alright." He clenched his fists, trying to restrain himself from touching Harry again. Apparently Harry wasn't ready for that yet. He could wait. He turned away, hopefully hiding the painful expression on his face. He watched as Harry just nodded once and turned swiftly towards the portrait hole, the painting quickly winging open when Harry murmured the password.

Colin slipped into the portrait hole behind Harry, not even bothering to keep himself from looking longingly at Harry's arse. Unless Harry had eyes in his bum, Colin could safely look as much as he wanted without him knowing. He eased into the nearest chair and let his attention appear to be on his camera. He watched Harry, of course, from the corner of his eye. He saw him approach Hermione and Ron (who were, as usual, snuggled into a chair until they saw Harry and then they sprung apart) and whisper urgently to them. He relaxed slightly when neither of them glared at him so he assumed Harry was telling them why he had visited Dumbledore and what had upset him so. He hid a frown when they immediately head upstairs to the dorms without so much as a comforting touch or a hug. Couldn't they tell Harry was upset? Why didn't they comfort him? Bastards.

"Fuck," he mumbled, blushing slightly at the word and looking around to make sure it was unheard, still unused to using such language but finding it a very appropriate word at the moment. How was he supposed to talk with Harry, get Harry to notice him if he was always with _them_?

Ugh.

Colin sighed and let his head flop onto the back of the chair and closed his eyes. He needed to think of a better way to get some time alone with Harry.


	2. Rejection

Colin stared at the entrance to the dorms Harry had disappeared into until it was time for dinner. Harry, nor the others, still hadn't come down and he frowned with concern. What could possibly be so important to take so long? He huffed with frustration and headed up the stairs towards Harry's room. He pressed his ear to the door and his frown deepened when he felt the fizzle of the locking and silencing charm.

So. It was something private. Colin crossed his arms and scoffed at the locked and silenced door; he had a right to know, he wanted to help Harry. He jumped when he felt the charms drop and scurried a ways down the hall, hoping they were headed the other way, down to dinner. He pressed against the wall, trying to quiet his breathing as the trio walked into the hallway, thankfully headed in the opposite direction.

"I don't know when we're going, but I'll let you know, yeah?" Harry said sounding sad and tired. Colin frowned again and vowed to find out just what they were talking about. He hated that defeated tone to Harry's voice. It didn't _belong_ there.

"Alright, mate," Ron said sounding irritatingly jovial as he clapped Harry on the shoulder. Colin bristled as the red-head's hand touched Harry, even if it was only for a brief moment. It was obvious Harry didn't like it since he subtly angled his body away. Colin scowled when the red-head stroked a hand down Hermione's arm and hip as soon as Harry's back was turned. He didn't understand why Harry's two best friends felt the need to hide their feelings from him. Did Harry fancy one of them? Both of them? Colin shook his head, mostly in denial, with the last thoughts. Harry wouldn't never look at either of his friends in that way... but why the sneaking? He itched to find out.

~o.O~

Colin found himself quite adept at the Disillusionment charm after only a week of practice. He could cast it so well he can stand only a foot away from people and they still don't see him. They don't usually, but Colin gets the impression they aren't ignoring him like usual; they truly can't see him. He did a private victory dance and eased into the library, keeping close to the wall so he doesn't stick out. He grinned when he saw Harry and the other two sitting at a table near the back of the library. No one else was near them, but they all still had their heads close together and spoke in quiet, hushed tones. Colin inched closer, carefully watching his step so he didn't make a sound.

"But we have to find four more of them!" Harry hissed, sounding annoyed and upset, his voice barely above a whisper as he waved his hands sharply.

"I know, Harry, but without knowing _what_ they are, how can we look for them?" Hermione pointed out reasonably, but sounding slightly smug to have pointed out his flawed thinking. Ron had his hand drifting along her thigh under the table. Hermione didn't react at all, only because Harry would probably notice (honestly, he was clueless most times except when she needed him to be), but bit the inside of her lip when Ron slid his hand up higher when he took her lack of reaction as permission to keep doing what he was doing. Ron just grinned when she angled her head slightly and glared at him, her eyes flicking to Harry briefly. Her glare intensified until Ron finally cottoned on and let go. The loveable idiot...

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair heavily, rubbing his forehead. He ignored Ron's missing hand and smothered the urge to roll his eyes.

Colin itched to place a line of soothing kisses on his face and shoulders but kept himself plastered against the wall, if only so they'd keep talking. Whatever they were speaking about sounded very interesting and important, especially since they had over a dozen books all over their table. Some were in neat stacks while others were opened to random pages. All of the books looked old and dusty, with yellowing crinkly looking pages; he was sure some had been snuck out of the Restricted Section. He leaned forward when Harry continued in a soft voice after he'd looked around to make sure they were still alone. Colin smirked triumphantly, resisting the urge to do his victory dance again when he was easily overlooked.

"I have an idea for at least three of them. We know one was a necklace of Slytherin, yeah?" Harry said and waited for the other two to nod, understanding already dawning on Hermione's face. He noted that Ron, with no surprise at all, was just staring at Hermione. "So, I think there might be something to the rest being other items that belong to the founders. Even Gryffindor," Harry added with a wry, small smile.

"Of course!" Hermione said loudly, before covering her mouth with an apologetic expression as she ducked and darted her eyes around. "Of course," she said again quieter, leaning towards Harry. "It makes sense, but what would they be?"

"That I'm not sure of yet," Harry said and rubbed his forehead again.

Colin noticed the movement was right over his scar. He wondered if it somehow bothered Harry or if it was some sort of anxious habit. By the tired and slightly pained expression on Harry's face, Colin was thinking it was the former. "Poor Harry," he whispered, nearly inaudibly. He bit his lips as he anxiously checked to make sure he wasn't heard. None of the seated trio seemed to have heard him. He had to again restrain himself from rushing over to comfort the older boy.

"Well, what would _he_ use?" Ron asked, trying to help -but mostly just to not be left out. He honestly didn't give a rat's arse about the whole 'Destroying Horcruxes' thing. It only sounded promising to be stuck alone with Hermione (and Harry; he scowled briefly at the reminder) outside of school for Merlin alone knew how long. Not to mention the stories that'll be written about them when they get everything done and finally get rid of You Know Who. He frowned when he got twin annoyed looks from Hermione and Harry. "What? Just sayin'," he mumbled as he crossed his arms and slid down in his seat trying not to pout childishly.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's childish tantrum and turned back to Harry. "We'll have to look into it," she said, in her 'We must research this!' voice, already pulling a book from the large stack, excitement in her eyes. Colin rolled his eyes; that witch was ridiculous with how much she loved books. He wondered how Weasley even got her attention without sticking parchment on his bits. "Any ideas about the last one, Harry?" she asked, her nose still in the book. Her mind was already on figuring out what sort of personal items the other founders might have had that would've interested a young Tom Riddle.

"No," Harry said after a long moment of staring at Hermione's studiously bent bushy head. He did wonder if it could be in something living (a massive snake maybe?) but he wasn't sure enough to mention it to Hermione just yet. While she was smart, she didn't always accept that Harry had intelligence as well and would generally placate any ideas he had when it was obvious she didn't agree with him. If she didn't think of it, it wasn't a good idea apparently. It was rather annoying at the best of times but when it dealt with something as important as finding and destroying Voldemort's horcruxes, he wasn't willing to risk it yet. Not for the first time Harry wondered just why he'd told Hermione and Ron about the whole ordeal. With a quiet sigh, he pulled a book closer, mostly just for something to occupy his hands. He had a very strong feeling they wouldn't find the answers in a book, as much as that would shock (and probably enrage) Hermione.

"Are you sure there are 6 horcruxes, Harry?" Ron asked, a little louder than Harry was comfortable with. Colin's eyes went wide and he itched to know what a horcrux was. It sounded important and dangerous, especially when Harry's head whipped around as the older boy hissed a quieting sound at the red-head. Harry looked ready to punch the red-head.

"Yes," Harry hissed lowly, barely restraining the urge to smack Ron for being so loud. "Dumbledore said there were 6, he just didn't know what they were yet. There was the diary and he'd only recently figured out the ring..." he trailed off quietly. He sighed and shook his head, trying to banish the image of Dumbledore's withered, blackened hand out of his mind. "Not only do we have to find them, we have to destroy them," he muttered, mostly to himself. The ring and diary had already been taken care of but he didn't know how he was going to destroy the rest without a handy Basilisk fang. He rubbed his forehead again with weary agitation. What chance did he have to find the remaining horcruxes when Dumbledore had a hard time doing it? The old bloody bastard had years to think and search; he was lucky if he had a few weeks.

"How?" Ron asked, having heard Harry's mutterings. He flinched back when Harry glared at him.

"I don't know," Harry said between clenched teeth. He visibly calmed himself, taking a deep breath before he closed the book and muttered an apology. "Sorry. Look, I think I need to try to get some sleep," he said, looking between Hermione and Ron. He expected them (well, at least Hermione) to protest and make him stay to keep working but they just nodded at him and wished him good night. He didn't bother reminding them of the frequent nightmares and just shuffled out of the library. He turned once he got down the main hallway, feeling someone behind him but he didn't see anything when he looked. He shook his head sharply. "You need sleep, Potter," he mumbled to himself and dragged himself to bed.

Colin froze, breathing heavily when he realized Harry had sensed him. A fluttering, squirmy feeling worked through him when Harry looked right _at_ him. He nearly moaned out loud when those bright green eyes looked at him. In Colin's opinion, Harry was able to sense him for a reason; he just didn't know it yet. He followed Harry back to the Tower and settled in the common room, barely able to squash the temptation to slip inside behind Harry and see his bedtime routine. He itched to know what Harry wore to bed. He flopped onto a squashy chair, his mind already wondering what a horcrux was and why they needed to destroy them. It sounded important.

It also sounded very... secretive. If Granger wasn't able to check a book (or already just know it), it seemed like it was something not many people knew about. How had Dumbledore found out? Why would the old wizard entrust a sixteen year old with something so important?

It didn't take long for his thoughts to circle back around to Harry. Colin was sure Harry's earlier reaction was only due to stress and exhaustion; otherwise, there was little chance Harry wouldn't have taken him up on either of his offers earlier. He was sure of it.

~O.o~

Colin shifted on top of the scratchy scarlet blanket, trying to get comfortable. Maybe he should get under the covers? He blushed and kept his eyes off his own body, still unsure he was doing the right thing. He had been following Harry, as usual, and the continued distress of the older boy hurt him. He'd overheard some seventh years talking about how they did 'stress relief' and Colin had blushed madly but decided he'd try it. For Harry. He would be lying if he didn't like the idea on its own but he was willing to go past his own insecurities for Harry. Harry would be kind and gentle.

He didn't get the chance to move since the door opened while he was contemplating it as he nervously bit his lip. He hurried to prop himself up on his elbows when he heard the knob turn, hoping he looked alluring and inviting. A dark blush exploded over his face when he saw Harry wasn't alone. Oh no... He didn't even move to cover himself, he was frozen with mortification.

"What the fuck?" Ron nearly shouted, surprise and amusement in his voice. He stared at Colin, not at all hesitant at looking at the other boy. It was rather funny. Especially when he saw the various... offerings Colin had placed next to himself on Harry's nightstand. He snickered. He was interested to see what Harry would do and looked expectantly at the other wizard.

"Oh Merlin," Neville whispered, his own cheeks immediately going red before he backed out of the room again, stumbling slightly as he retreated. As soon as he was back in the hallway he regretted not dragging Ron with him. The red-head looked entirely too amused and not in a good way.

Harry just stood and stared, trying to take in that he was actually seeing Colin spread out on his bed. Naked. "Colin?" he said harshly, stepping closer to the bed, his hands fisted. "What the fuck are you doing in my room? On my _bed_?" he demanded, unable to control the anger and annoyance towards Colin in his shock. He turned swiftly and looked at Ron, pointing at the door. "Get out, Ron," he barked. Even if he was pissed at Colin, the younger boy didn't deserve an audience _or_ the mean-spirited amusement from Ron. He just glared when the red-head went to balk, standing his ground until Ron had backed out with a disgruntled grumble.

"Harry," Colin said quietly, shifting slightly on the bed so his legs were open in invitation. He sighed with relief when they were alone, thankful Harry wasn't going to allow anyone else to witness what they were going to do. He was blushing madly but he didn't at all second guess himself. He wanted Harry. He wanted to help him. He loved him. What better way to show it?

But then horrible realization slowly dawned; Harry wasn't rushing towards the bed at him. Harry was pissed. He could feel the other wizard's angry magic crackling across his skin, rattling the windows and small items on the bedside tables and he shivered with a mixture of pleasure and fear. "I'm here for you. I want to help. I love you. I want to help you, let me help. I want you," he said in a jumbled rush, his voice getting quieter and quieter with each declaration. He was reaching out a hand, inviting the other Gryffindor but he slowly dropped it back to the bed, confused, when Harry's scowl only deepened with each sentence. He blinked when the expression on Harry's face got darker and his hands went into tight, white fists.

Harry stared at the nude boy still on his bed and felt something snap. He'd just dodged a very similar attempt from Ginny (_Ginny_, of all people!) and everything just came to a head all at once in a terrible rush. Later, he'd feel horrible for how he treated Colin but right now he saw only red. "Get the fuck off of my bed! You can't _help_ me. You don't _love_ me," he said, snarling as he said 'love'. No one fucking loved him, especially not Colin. He'd only ever seen celebrity and hero worship in the younger boy's eyes. "I don't love you. I don't _want_ you. I don't even fucking _like_ you, Colin!" he said as he threw his hands up.

He was in no way tempted by the (now wilting) cock fully on display. He didn't at all pause to admire the slim, pale body spread out invitingly on his scarlet bedspread. He was enraged at the audacity shown to intrude on his personal space, the blatant disregard for his feelings and even the crestfallen look on Colin's face. Did Colin really think this would work? He thought about what Ron (and the rest of their house) would say and he could feel his knuckles crack with the strain. Colin wasn't supposed to know this sort of thing about him, display it and make it known.

"But," Colin whispered, his chest hitching with a barely restrained sob. He couldn't believe Harry would react like this. He shyly pulled the corner of the blanket up over his crotch, embarrassed now to be naked. He was no longer excited and full of anticipation. His eyes widened when Harry stalked toward him, if his gorgeous green eyes weren't hard with barely restrained fury, he would probably be hard again at the intense look. Aimed at someone else, it would be incredibly sexy. He squeaked when Harry's hand closed around his upper arm and yanked him off of the bed. "Harry, please don't. Please. Let me-"

Harry tightened his hand a little more, mostly to keep the flailing blonde from falling. "No!" he yelled, shaking Colin slightly. As angry as he was, he didn't want to actually hurt his fellow Gryffindor. He just wanted him out of his face, out of his room. Preferably clothed. He was starting to notice the naked body in his grip and it was getting rather awkward. "I don't want you, for fuck's sake! Why the fuck would you think I would?" he hissed, shaking Colin again with frustration. He felt a sliver of unease when Colin whimpered and cringed away. "Fuck," he grunted, feeling like an even bigger bastard, and started marching Colin towards the door, not even thinking about his naked state.

"Harry, please, just let me-" Colin cried, hoping Harry would at least let him get his clothes on. He tried to snag a blanket from a nearby bed as Harry marched him towards the door but his shaking fingers just brushed the fabric without getting a hold.

"Fuck! NO, Colin!" Harry shouted and roughly shoved the blonde out of the door.

The quiet '_snick_' of the lock sounded deafening in the empty hallway. Colin groaned. His head whipped around frantically, looking for anything to cover himself with. He glared at the closed and locked door he'd just be thrown out of. What just happened? His chest hitched again with another sob and he couldn't stop it from coming out. Why did Harry do this? Why would he throw him out? Maybe he should have been in a different position...

He slowly turned and realized he was no longer alone. Ron was standing in front of a large group of fellow Gryffindors of practically every year, standing tall and smug with his arms crossed, and they were all pointing at him and whispering. Colin whimpered and covered himself with his hand.

"See? I told you," Ron said to the small crowd behind him, sounding smug and amused. He stepped closer to the small, trembling blonde. "Did you really think Harry would want you?" he asked snidely, his lip curling up slightly, in a low quiet voice that only reached Colin's ears. He didn't give a shit who Harry liked (not-so-secretly relieved it wasn't his sister; he couldn't exactly threatened The Boy Who Lived with painful castration if he hurt his baby sister, now could he?) but it was too easy to pass up such an opportunity. Colin was annoying, maybe this would teach him a lesson? "You're pathetic, Creevey. There's no way Harry fucking _Potter_ would want _you_."

Colin looked up at Ron miserably and saw no hesitation, no doubt at all. He truly wasn't worthy of Harry; him being naked in a hallway, thrown out and unwanted was proof enough of that. Who else would know such a truth but Harry's best mate? He tried to keep the sob in but he failed. His eyes darted around to every person in the hallway, staring at him with amusement and pity. Harry must have... no, he didn't know Colin was going to do this. He wouldn't have done this to deliberately humiliate Colin. But... Why wasn't he out here protecting Colin and making these people leave him alone?

He slinked along the hallway, pushing past people so he could get to his own dorm room. Someone tripped him and someone else kicked him right in his naked bum before he could scramble up to his feet. Hot tears were leaking steadily down his face as he shuffled to his room, sniffling pathetically. He'd seen these same people turn on Harry before, so he shouldn't be surprised they'd do the same to him but it still hurt something deep inside.

Colin finally made it to his bed and collapsed with a wail of distress. He slammed his curtains closed with an angry yank. He fisted his hands and tried to calm his breathing. He had only tried to help. He loved Harry. Why would he treat him that way? Was he that wrong about Harry? About what kind of person Harry was? Colin angrily wiped the tears from his face.

Harry fucking Potter indeed...


	3. Pain

Rachiel entered Colin's dorm room slowly and quietly; it was ridiculously easy for any girl to sneak into the boy's dorm and she often took advantage of that knowledge, even if not for the same reasons as other girls. She looked at the closed curtains and sighed quietly when she heard the quiet, wet sniffles coming through the scarlet hangings. Her chest clenched painfully with sorrow for Colin. He didn't deserve to be treated like that! _She_ would never treat him like that. She flushed; she certainly wouldn't throw him, naked, from her bed. Ever. Not that Colin would ever perch naked on _her_ bed. No... Harry fucking Potter had no idea what he just threw away.

"Colin?" she called out quietly. She had only just heard about the horrible scene from some third year she didn't even know. She was horrified when she had listened to the girl recount Colin's humiliation with open amusement and glee. She had also blushed madly at the thought of Colin's nudity. She almost wished she had been there to see it; not that she would ever want to see Colin's misery or for him to be humiliated... but just a glimpse of that naked body... She shook her head slightly to clear it and called out to Colin again, pushing the hangings aside slightly, her eyes going wide when she saw Colin's bare back (and arse! the thought came, almost hysterically) shaking slightly as he sobbed quietly. It broke her heart to see the narrow shoulders shake and his face buried into the pillow.

"Go away," Colin muttered quietly, not caring he was giving whoever was looking in on him a view of his bare arse. Everyone had already seen it now, anyway.

"Colin," Rachiel said again and slowly sat down next to Colin, trying like mad to keep her eyes above his shoulder blades. Even those were sexy, she noticed against her will. Her fingers twitched with longing to stroke and caress. To sooth and comfort. If Colin weren't laying there crying, she probably would have allowed herself to indulge. Instead, she gently placed a hand on Colin's shoulder, trying very hard to ignore the soft, warm skin.

Colin jerked his shoulder and he turned angrily, ready to scream and rave at whoever was touching him. His face crumpled as he looked at Rachiel, relief and misery mixing painfully in his chest. He didn't want anyone else to ever see him again but he was so grateful for a friendly face right now. "Sorry, Rachiel," he hiccuped and buried his face in her neck, his arms coming up and clinging tightly. He didn't notice the sharply inhaled gasp or the subtle nose buried in his hair, smelling him. "I didn't know it was you," he said with a wet sniffle.

"It's alright," Rachiel soothed, stroking a hand down Colin's back, stopping herself when she got to the small of his back. She absently wondered if Colin even realized he was naked. A painful twist went through her with that thought; another painful reminder that Colin will only see her as a friend. She tentatively let her hand brush over one fleshy swell of his arse cheek and nearly groaned with pleasure and frustration that Colin didn't even flinch at the touch. "I heard about what happened," she said softly, unaware she'd just opened the flood gates.

Colin wailed as he pushed Rachiel away from him. "I bet you're just as amused by it," he hissed angry, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand in jerky movements.

"No, Colin," Rachiel said and tried to envelop him in a comforting embrace again. She frowned when Colin shuffled back out of reach. "If I'd have known, I would have-"

"What?" Colin interrupted with a screech. "Pointed and laughed as well? Kick me in the dick?" he muttered, scowling as he remembered the shoe he had gotten in the arse. He wished he'd looked back and seen who had done it.

Rachiel gasped and shook her head rapidly, her eyes wide and full of hurt. "No! I would have stuck up for you. Kick them in _their_ dicks," she said with a faint blush. "I would _not_ have laughed, Colin," she defended heatedly. "How could you think that?" she asked in a whisper.

Colin's chest hitched and he clumsily fell back into Rachiel's arms, sobbing fitfully when her arms came up and immediately folded around him. He nuzzled into her neck, enjoying the secure warmth. He longed to have that from Harry but he had been rejected. Denied. Cast aside. Mocked and humiliated. He worked to catch his breath, trying hard to ignore the soft, small breasts pressing into his chest as he quickly pulled back and latched his mouth over Rachiel's in hastily planned move. He nearly wept with relief when she didn't push him off.

Rachiel froze, her heart thundering in her chest as Colin's lips moved against hers, trying to get a response from her. Her brain slowly started working again and she gently pushed Colin away, regretting her actions with every part of her. She _wanted_ to allow him to continue but it wouldn't be fair to either of them. "Stop Colin," she whispered. "You don't mean it," she said softly, fighting to keep the hurt from her tone.

"I do," Colin insisted petulantly. He _wanted_ someone to want him for once. Someone that will kiss back. Someone that _liked_ him. Someone that loved him. It didn't seem to matter he didn't feel the same for Rachiel; he was feeling greedy and vulnerable enough to use her.

"No, you don't," Rachiel insisted, anger slowly building. It was obvious Colin was only using her. He had never given any indication he wanted to kiss her before. He had never wanted anything physical from her besides a hug or a friendly kiss on the cheek. She couldn't believe he would do such a thing, even if he was hurting. Didn't he understand it was just as hurtful as what he had just gone through? "Don't try to use me, Colin."

Colin sat back and crossed his arms defensively. "I'm not," he muttered, looking away with a light flush of guilt and embarrassment. Rachiel shouldn't have been able to tell he was thinking that. Was he that bad a kisser? He had to practice so he could impress Harry with his kissing skills. Surely a true friend wouldn't deny him that? He launched himself at Rachiel again, his hands together behind her neck. He tried to get his tongue between her lips but Rachiel shoved him back again, planting her hands firmly against his bare chest and locking her elbows to keep him away. "What?" he huffed.

"You're being pathetic!" Rachiel cried, her hands balling angrily. She didn't understand what Colin was doing, let alone what he could be thinking. Colin wouldn't ever kiss her, or any other girl for that matter, willingly. He had his heart and libido firmly on blokes -namely one Harry Potter. She honestly couldn't blame him, either; even if you didn't go for the whole 'hero thing', Harry was the stuff of hot, wet dreams. She shook her head, confusion mixing with her ire. She wanted to ask what exactly happened, get Colin's accounting of things but everything was going horribly wrong. "You're absolutely pitiful," she muttered, mostly to herself, her eyes trying not to sweep Colin's bare chest. He wasn't nearly as built as most blokes but he had a beautiful grace about him that even now Rachiel was hard-pressed to ignore.

"Then have pity on me," Colin mumbled with a wet sniffle, leaning in for another go at a kiss. He scowled when Rachiel kept her arms stiff, keeping him from getting close. "What?" he shouted angrily. "Why aren't you letting me do this?"

Rachiel can only blink at him. "It's not right," she finally said.

"Not right? You owe me!" Colin shouted, his hands balling up. He angrily knocked her hands off his chest, crossing his arms protectively over himself. "I _could_ have been talking to more popular kids, better looking kids. Even Harry!" he ground out. He knew Harry didn't care about year or house, he spoke to everyone. He obviously would have gladly befriended Colin if he'd gotten the proper chance. "But, no," he elongated the 'o' as he shook a finger, with a dramatic flourish, "I didn't. _I_ befriended the skinny little dorky muggleborn who didn't know a _thing_ about magic or being a witch."

Rachiel just sat and stared as Colin ranted at her. He had been just as clueless when he had come to Hogwart's. They had shared many awed 'horror' stories; Their first ride on the Hogwart's Express. The impossibly tall (but incredibly nice) giant man that had come to collect them. The scary boat ride across the ominous lake in the dark. The first few days away from home, lonely and homesick.

Colin was only a year ahead of her, as well as being a clueless muggleborn too, but he still helped on occasion whenever he could. He'd never shown any hesitation in being her friend. He'd never indicated wanting to talk to other people, which she would have happily encouraged, or feeling held back by being her friend. With the exception of his brother, she was Colin's only friend that she knew of. Most people were put off with having a camera shoved in their face or Colin chattering away like a chipmunk on a sugar rush (generally while he stood too close, invading personal space). She absently wiped off the tears as they leaked out while Colin ranted and belittled her. "I didn't force you to talk to me," she finally muttered, glaring angrily up at Colin. She knew he was hurting and she tried not to lash out but it _hurt_ to hear him say such things. It hurt to know it was what he really thought.

"No," Colin said softly, his anger evaporating so quickly he sagged forward with a shocked gasp. "I'm sorry," he blubbered, covering his face with shaking hands. "I just want him so much. He's so amazing and everything went so wrong, so quickly. I don't understand it," he wailed miserably. He looked up at Rachiel, sniffling pathetically. "Aren't I attractive enough?" he pleaded in a hoarse voice, yanking on Rachiel's shirt in desperation.

Rachiel's mouth opened and closed like a landed fish, her head whirling with the abrupt change in Colin's demeanor and actions. She found herself nodding, unwillingly giving Colin an honest answer. "You're very attractive," she answered with a blush back on her cheeks. She forced herself to keep her eyes above his shoulders, longing to let her eyes drift down and see what Harry got to see and subsequently discard.

"Am I not good enough for Harry? Do you think he'd like me better if I wasn't so skinny? Darker hair? Taller? A bigger dick?" he fired off questions rapidly as each thought bubbled up. He glared down at his crotch, scrutinizing his size, shape and even color. Harry hadn't really looked, being such a gentleman, but he was sure he wasn't good enough there either. He pinched a skinny arm, disdain marring his normally pleasant face as he pinched, poked and slapped every part of himself he found wanting. "What can I do? How can I change? I need him! You gotta help me," he said, scrambling over to kneel in front of Rachiel, his eyes slightly wild and glittering in a way that made her flinch back.

Rachiel slowly brought a hand up to Colin's shoulder and squeezed gently. "You're wonderful just how you are, Colin. If Harry can't appreciate that, he's not worth it," she tried, ducking fearfully a moment later when Colin shrieked in outrage.

"Don't you dare say that! He _is_ worth it! He's worth _every_thing! He's worth dozens... hundreds... thousands of _you_," Colin screamed, pointing a finger angrily at Rachiel, jabbing it at her with each word. "You have to help me," he sobbed, his body bowing with exhaustion. "I can't lose him! I have to get him! You have to help me," he ended with a shrieking wail.

Rachiel looked at her friend sadly and when Colin shifted his body to weep and wail with his knees clutched tightly to his chest. She hurried over to his trunk and grabbed the first thing she found that would cover him. She had to wave her wand nearly a half a dozen times before she could spell the clothing on him since her hand was shaking so badly and it was hard to concentrate. She bit her lip worriedly, watching Colin closely. He was rocking slightly and muttering to himself, tears streaming down his cheeks. She knew this wasn't normal behavior but she had no idea what to do or how to help her friend. "Colin, I'll help you," she murmured, smoothing his pale hair back tenderly. She really didn't intend on helping Colin with his delusional campaign for Harry Potter. No, she meant now; she was going to help him out of his funk and hopefully into a much better mindset.

Colin smiled for only a moment and went back to his nonsensical muttering. He didn't even flinch when Rachiel cast a lightening charm and levitated him off the bed. He barely even blinked the entire time she floated him towards the infirmary. His eyes closed, the lids puffy and bruised looking, the minute she'd eased him down onto the bed.

"What seems to be the trouble here," the nurse paused, trying to remember the young lady's name. It was hard to keep track of so many students, especially if they didn't visit her often. "Miss Dempsey?"

Rachiel gulped and blinked back the tears that were making her vision fuzzy and wobbly. "Colin, he's... I don't know! He went completely mental!" she wailed helplessly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "He was crying and screaming and yelling and kissing me," she whispered the last part. "He had an... incident earlier and I think he's just upset. I'm scared he's going to hurt himself," she whispered fearfully, glancing at Colin quickly before looking back at the nurse pleadingly.

The nurse pursed her lips as she waved her wand over the softly muttering body that was now laying on the crisp sheets covering a cot. The boy was shaking slightly, a unintelligible string of gibberish coming out of his mouth as he laid curled in the fetal position. She wasn't a mind healer, for Merlin's sake... and this was completely out of her realm of expertise. She tried to give the young woman a reassuring smile and started to shoo her out of the infirmary. "I'll give him a mild sleeping potion and we'll see if he doesn't feel better in the morning."

Rachiel nodded sadly with one last glance back at Colin before she sighed and resigned herself to heading back to her dorm. Poor Colin... "Can I come back later? To keep him company?" she asked quietly, giving the stern looking nurse the most pleading look she could manage.

The nurse pursed her lips as she glanced down at the young woman and felt her resolve crack. "You may. _If_ he's the only one here later, the patients' privacy must be guarded!" Rachiel nodded eagerly, not at all willing to jeopardize her hard won permission by reminding the nurse there were dividers for each bed. "You are _not_ to bring food in here, unless I approve it, even if it's for yourself," Rachiel nodded again, a small smile growing on her face. "And you are to keep yourself in your _own_ bed, under no circumstances are you to be any closer than 10 inches to him. Is this clear?" she asked, angling her head to peer down sternly at the young woman over the rim of her glasses. She was in no way going to allow the chance for any canoodling or indecent behavior.

"Yes ma'am," Rachiel chirped. "I'll be back after dinner, alright?"

The nurse nodded briskly and waved her off, her attention swiftly returning to the boy laying on the cot. She clucked her tongue, wondering just what he'd gotten himself into to have such a overly dramatic reaction. Just before she went to get the potion, Colin roused briefly, grabbing her hand with surprising strength.

"Help me! I have to get Harry. You have to help me!" Colin pleaded before his eyes roll back slightly and he thumped onto the bed, shivering and mumbling again.

The nurse leaned down and frowned at the thin sheen of sweat covering the boy's shivering body. She hadn't detect a fever when she'd scanned him earlier. She waved her wand again and again got no reading for a fever. She watches with a raised eyebrow as Colin shivers, tears coursing down his cheeks again as he mumbles. She turned to fetch a Calming Drought.

After carefully measuring the proper dose after she'd weighed Colin with a handy spell she'd learned that took the weight right from the bed, she fed him the potion. She slowly put the now empty vial on the bedside table and cursed lowly under her breath when she remembered the patient's name. She glared at the empty vial and hurried to get something that would counteract Colin's reaction to the honey in the Calming Drought. How in Merlin's name could she make such an oversight?

She carefully eyed Colin, waving her wand to diagnose and chart his vitals. She bustled off when everything came up normal, ignoring the sheen of sweat on Colin's brow and the continued mutterings. The sleeping drought as going to have to be enough for now since he was no longer in danger of a reaction and she was out of options. She nearly wished she could just send the boy out to his dorms.

Colin moaned pitifully but no one heard it. He shivered and called out for Harry but no one heard it. He wept quietly but no one heard it.

~o.O~

Rachiel eased the infirmary door open and peeked her head in, warily looking for the head nurse. She jumped when a booming voice ordered 'In or out, just close the door!'. She hurried over the Colin's bed, happy to see he was in comfortable looking pajamas. She frowned thoughtfully when she noticed his sweaty brow and he was still mumbling to himself. Were people supposed to look this agitated and upset after having a Calming Drought? She hurried to a stack of comfortable looking chairs and dragged one over to Colin's bed, settling herself as comfortably as she could. She slowly inched her hand towards Colin's, unsure if she should be touching him while he slept and fearing the nurse's reaction. Colin's hand closed over hers, almost painfully and neither let go.

Rachiel isn't sure how long she was asleep for, but it was still dark outside the windows as she looked around groggily wondering what woke her. She blinked owlishly at the unfamiliar surroundings. Even though the room was dark, there was an eerie glow about it; like light bouncing off the moon. Ah, she nearly chuckled as her eyes adjusted to the sterile, stark whiteness.

The infirmary. She'd fallen asleep in the infirmary. With Colin.

A quiet whimper immediately drew her attention. She glanced at Colin and bit her lip with uncertainty when he whimpered again as he weakly thrashed about. His grip on her hand hadn't lessened one bit. She leaned down, her ear hovering close to Colin's mouth so she could hear what he was saying.

"Harry. No. Take me, Harry. Please." The last word was sighed with such longing and heartache, Rachiel had to look away for a long moment to get herself under control again. She completely understood that tone. Colin moaned pitifully, twitching and mumbling.

Rachiel watched Colin with fearful apprehension. She couldn't just leave him alone but she didn't want the stern head nurse to kick her out either. She sighed deeply, looking at Colin before quietly easing onto the narrow cot next to Colin. She smiled softly when he slowly stilled as she pressed close and wrapped her arms around his damp, trembling body. His whimpered 'Harry's and 'why's died down to deep, even breaths as she gently stroked the hair away from his sweaty brow. She looked around quickly, making sure no one would bare witness, before she quickly kissed Colin's temple, her eyes closing briefly at the contact.

Colin sighed, a sound caught between contentment and exhaustion, as Rachiel softly murmured to him and stroked his arms and back in soothing, soft touches.

Eventually Colin stilled completely, his sleep finally deep and restful and Rachiel took the moment to hold Colin close, torn between scorn for Harry Potter and deep concern for Colin's mental health. Surely it was unfair to blame Harry for Colin's... condition but would Colin have gone into such a downward spiral if it weren't for Harry's actions? Shouldn't every Gryffindor that laughed at Colin be just as guilty? She's no stranger to Colin's less than realistic daydreams and fantasies about Harry Potter.

She sighed, truly confused and unsure, and finally just closed her eyes. She hoped to Merlin that the nurse didn't come out in the middle of the night and boot her. Colin _needed_ comforting; surely a nurse would understand and agree? After long moments of peaceful silence she closed her own eyes, letting sleep claim her. She could only hope she wasn't rudely awakened in the morning by a grouchy head nurse.


	4. A New Plan

Colin blinked groggily against stark, bright light as he slowly sat up. When did he get to the infirmary? Why was he here? He groaned as his head pounded sickly, his hands coming up to rub his aching head. He squeaked and jumped, causing another jolt of pain to streak through his head, when the nurse appeared at the side of his bed like a Muggle jack-in-the-box. He hadn't even seen her approach!

"How are we, Mr. Creevey?" the nurse asked, pursing her lips disapprovingly as she waved her wand over him in a diagnostic spell with a complicated flick and wave. She had been annoyed but begrudgingly understanding when she had come in first thing this morning to find that young girl wrapped around Colin, both of them sleeping soundly. The chaste, yet comforting, position they were in was the only thing that kept either from an irritating stinging hex. She had non-too-gently woke the girl and shooed her out and up to her dorms, unwilling to be seen as an adult that would let children disobey her orders. As she looked at the boy closely, he looked to be in pain but otherwise a lot better than when he had been brought in. His eyes were clear, he was no longer shaking and shivering or mumbling and he had some color back to his face.

"Head hurts," Colin moaned piteously and closed his eyes against the bright room. He groaned again when flickering, fuzzy memories of yesterday popped into his head. Oh, he had been acting completely insane! No wonder poor Rachiel had dropped him here. He wanted to groan and wince with the memory of what he had done to her. He needed to apologize; the sooner, the better. He sighed with relief when a small glass vial was pressed into his hand and quickly swallowed the foul tasting pain potion. He shuddered and handed the empty vial back blindly.

"Better?" the nurse asked, watching closely again for any adverse reactions. Color was fully back in the boys face and he appeared to be clenching his eyes in something other than pain. She watched as he nodded slowly and she clucked her tongue as she bent over to remove the blankets with a quick snap of her wrist. "Good, then up you get. You're released."

"Really?" Colin blinked, unsure. "Why was I here, anyway?" he asked quietly as he slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his feet on the floor.

"Mrs. Dempsey didn't specify, but you were very distraught."

Distraught? Colin snorted at the understatement. "I see," he muttered. The headache was easily explained now; he'd obviously been given a Calming Drought. He wasn't in the mood to be pissed that the nurse hadn't bothered to check if he should've been given the potion or not. Plus, he apparently hadn't been left too suffer long since he was only left with a headache and no other ill effects. He looked around and found a clean uniform on the foot of the bed and gave the nurse a pointed look.

"Yes, yes, I'll give you privacy," she said flippantly, waving a dismissive hand at his modesty. "Once you've changed, you're free to go. You should easily make breakfast," she said, trying to sound enthusiastic as she left, swishing the curtains closed around Colin.

"Breakfast..." Colin muttered, slowly undressing. He only wanted to hide in his dorm room, under the covers. Forever. He groaned softly with the realization that he couldn't hide forever. He'd have to face his house (and probably the entire fucking school by now) sooner or later. He kept his movements slow and took his time, but even with his slow pace there was still over an hour left before classes. "Damn," he sighed and finally left the infirmary.

Colin eased into the double doors of the Great Hall before he hurried over to the Gryffindor table, his eyes trained on the floor. He held back a grimace when the Great Hall went deathly silent, nearly every head swung around to stare at him. Murmured conversations slowly started up again and some of his fellow students were even cruel enough to point. He took his normal seat, two down from Harry's, and kept his head lowered and focused on the small amount of food he had placed on his plate. When the doors opened again revealing Harry, he couldn't stop himself from looking. Or watching the older boy walk into the room and head towards the table. His eyes widened when Harry headed straight for him, though. He didn't know if he should panic or defend himself, so he just sat there tensely and watched Harry approach.

"Colin," Harry murmured as soon as he was close enough. "Can I talk to you?" he asked, watching Colin carefully. He wouldn't blame the kid for taking a swing at him or if he told him to fuck off. He deserved either reaction.

Colin's eyes widened even more and he nodded emphatically. "Sure," he breathed but didn't move. He wanted to frown when Harry sighed and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.

Harry sat instead of stepping into the hallway, apparently Colin wanted to make this a public thing. Fine; he was used to _public_ even if he hated it. "Doin' alright?" he asked, genuinely curious. He had been shocked to find out Colin had been in the infirmary. Guilt and curiosity drew him to visit the younger boy but Colin had been sleeping, curled up with some girl wrapped around him protectively. Relief had been swift and he quickly left, oddly thankful for the girl wrapped around Colin.

Colin blinked stupidly for a moment, slowly realizing Harry was _talking_ to him. Harry was _interested_ in how he was doing. Harry... looked worried and truly sorry. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," he finally said, easily saying the half-truth so Harry wouldn't look so worried, even if at his expense.

Harry nodded, obviously relieved. "Good good. Look, I want to apologize... for yesterday." He grimaced and looked away for a moment. "I completely overreacted and I was a total dick about it. Not that it makes it excuses my behavior in the least, but I was really stressed out and in a bad mood..." As much as he wanted to, he didn't lower his voice, sure that everyone close by was listening. He did owe a public apology to Colin since he'd be publicly humiliated. By him. He hadn't realized the full extend of his actions until Ron had come in bragging about Colin's 'naked walk of shame' and how everyone had laughed at him. He had felt terrible, wishing he had stopped long enough for Colin to cover himself.

Colin jumped and risked putting a hand on Harry's arm. "It's alright, I shouldn't have done... that," he hurried to explain, trying to get the tormented look off of Harry's face. It made him uncomfortably warm to think that Harry was worried about him but he didn't need any explanations. He had known Harry was stressed out, the reason he had been there in the first place, and yet he still risked it.

Harry smiled slightly. "No, you shouldn't have but I shouldn't have reacted like that either." His smile dropped and he turned to look behind him, glaring at Ron as the red-head gave him a confused look, as if he couldn't understand why he was talking to Colin. "I'll talk to everyone, hopefully they'll let this drop, too." He turned back to Colin, nodding seriously. He was still pissed at his house for turning on another fellow Gryffindor. Again. "I'm sure in a few days, something else will come up and no one will even remember what happened." Well, he wouldn't forget but he certainly wasn't going to let it bother him.

"Oh," Colin said softly. He hadn't even thought of that. He glanced over Harry's shoulder to see Ron smirking at him. He was still reeling from Harry's sincere apology, he hadn't even been expecting it. Sure, Harry's reaction had been horrible but he didn't think _Harry_ would've thought so too. Did Harry actually want him but the surprise made him react badly? He itched with the urge to ask what had him in a bad mood that day. "Uhm, alright," he said instead.

Harry nodded and stood, clapping Colin awkwardly on the shoulder. "Good," he said and made his way over to his usual seat. He ignored Ron's indignant questions and focused on eating his breakfast, his eyes straying across the hall towards the Slytherin table in his usual habit.

Colin just resumed his own breakfast, trying to sort out the last few minutes. He was still riding an elated, jubilant high from talking with Harry and having the older boy apologize for that happened. He was still tingling pleasantly from the brief touches that had happened. He glanced at Harry, as usual, but noticed Harry was brooding into his plate most of the time. Occasionally Harry's eyes would flick up and a hard glare would form on his face as he looked across the hall. He followed where Harry was looking and saw, with no surprise, that Harry was looking at Malfoy.

Now, Colin had spent a good amount of his time watching Harry. So, naturally he was very aware of the rivalry between Harry and Draco Malfoy. It wasn't as intense this year though, both boys seemed to be keeping to themselves more than usual. Colin watched Harry, slowly dawning horror seeping into his awareness. Harry's glances weren't always shining with suspicion, contempt or barely contained anger. No, like right now; his green eyes were focused on the top of Malfoy's head and Colin nearly wept as he read the look in those eyes.

Harry _liked_ Malfoy.

Colin had seen that look on too many faces to mistake it. He never thought he'd ever see it going between those two, even if one of them wasn't aware of it.

He choked on his tea, unnoticed by anyone thankfully, when Harry's tongue crept out and wet his bottom lip in a quick swipe. He watched as Ron said something to Harry, drawing the other boy's attention quickly off of the Slytherin table, and one particular Slytherin, to answer him. He didn't hear what they were talking about but he fought a grin when Harry smacked the red-head hard enough to echo in the Hall and said something angrily. He noticed the wide-eye way Harry quickly looked around the table and understood Ron had been stupid enough to ask about whatever they spoke about in private. He sighed; he was going to have to find a way to learn more about what they were involved in.

~o.O~

"But he's a Death Eater!"

"Honestly, Harry, you don't know that for sure! You can't just accuse someone of _that_ without proof," Hermione scolded Harry for what seemed like the hundredth time. She just didn't get Harry's obsession with Malfoy. He spent most of his free time watching the other boy's dot on his map, following his every move when he could and staring at him at meal times (when the blonde actually showed up). It was beginning to worry her. She lowered her voice slightly, aware of the few of students close enough to hear their conversation. "You _have_ to stop this unhealthy... focus on Malfoy, Harry." The last time she'd used the word 'obsession' Harry had sulked like a child and refused to talk to her for two days.

Harry scoffed and glared at his friend, uncharitably calling her a few names in his mind. "It is not _unhealthy_. He's _up_ to something, I know it..."

"Stop it!" Hermione hissed. "He's not planning _any_thing. He's not _up_ to something, Harry. He's a _student_."

Harry made an indignant sound in his throat and smirked. "So am I and _I_ get up to all sorts of shenanigans..."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly, Harry. That's completely different-"

"No, it isn't, 'Mione. If I can get around and into trouble, so can he," Harry pointed out, sounding rather smug. He didn't understand why Hermione couldn't at least concede _that_ point. They got up to things practically everyday, why would Malfoy be an exception?

Hermione rolled her eyes again and turned away, replacing her nose into her book and considering the conversation over.

Colin stared at the wall, trying to understand what he'd just heard... if Harry was sure Malfoy was a death eater, why in Merlin's name did he like the git? It didn't make any sense. Was he trying to help Malfoy in some way? Save him, as Harry was wont to do? He nibbled his bottom lip furiously as he thought, his eyes flicking over to watch Harry as he bent over some sort of large parchment with intense scrutiny.

~O.o~

Colin sat, nearly invisible and hopefully unnoticed, in the deserted common room. He had waited patiently, nearly falling asleep a few times, for the room to clear of everyone in the hope that Harry and his group would talk. He grinned when Ron made a very bad attempt to look inconspicuous and look around the room.

"All clear," Ron said importantly, mostly to Hermione.

"Right," Harry sighed and slumped into the chair he'd been camped out in for the past two hours. He would rather talk in the dorm room but he really didn't want to ask his other dorm mates to leave or have to explain anything to them. It was bad enough Ron and Hermione knew... "I spoke to Dumbledore..." Harry started.

After an hour, Harry's slightly hoarse voice finally quieted. Colin sat limply in the corner, his face no longer frozen in shock and incredulity. He had never have imagined that Harry would have to do such... dangerous things! He glared openly at Ron and Hermione, knowing full well those two weren't worthy to be helping Harry.

For all her smarty-pants attitude, Hermione hadn't been able to work out anything on her own. All of the information, oddly enough (even in Colin's opinion) came from Harry. He had had to decipher Dumbledore's maddeningly vague riddle like answers. Colin just stared at the dying fire, half-listening to the trio argue about ways to go about finding The Items and how they could be destroyed. He did perk up when Harry mentioned the arduous task of actually locating the items.

"You know we can't just wander around blindly. We've got to find out a general location, if not _the_ location, of these before we even plan anything," Harry said patiently. Ron had nearly jumped up with a gleeful shout and Hermione had only given him a blank, yet indulgent, look when he'd first mentioned having to find the items.

Did either of them actually understand how dangerous this would be? Ron seemed to be thinking this would be some fun road-trip and Hermione appeared to look upon it like some treasure hunt. Harry sighed again, annoyed and frustrated. He didn't _want_ to plan shit; planning left room for error if you didn't include the smallest detail and delayed things getting done. But planning was what Hermione did. Planning reduced error if you thought of every small contingency and planning would give them time to figure out the last horcrux. Hopefully.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed and subtly checked the time. If they wrapped this up soon, her and Ron could still sneak an hour or so of alone time. "I think I know where to look, but it'll have to wait until morning when the library opens."

"Of course," Harry nodded, recognizing her placating and rather dismissive tone. He stretched and gave a small wave. "I'm going to head to bed. Night guys."

Ron coughed and flicked his eyes around the room nervously. "I gotta finish my charms essay, be up in a bit," he said, proud he didn't sound suspicious or nervous.

Harry only nodded and headed upstairs, vaguely aware of eyes on his back.

Colin wanted to snort with amusement and frustration, the combining emotions making his stomach ache. Was Harry really that oblivious? Colin thought not, sure he had seen amusement in his green eyes when he had said goodnight. He glanced at the two left alone, now snuggling and wrapped around each other like animals in heat. He still didn't understand their problem with letting Harry in on the secret. Did they really think Harry would care? So odd. When the couple didn't do anything but try to eat each others faces, Colin snuck back into his dorm room with a vaguely unsettled feeling in his stomach with the memory of his fellow Gryffindors going at it. Ugh.

As he got ready for bed on auto-pilot, he let his mind wander and think. He now knew a lot more about what they were doing and why. He knew, mostly, of what they were looking for even if not where to look for it. He knew it would help Harry in going against Voldemort. He also knew it was something he couldn't leave to just The Golden Trio.

His thoughts drift to Malfoy again... He had taken to watching the blonde as well, even if only occasionally in the Great Hall. It almost felt like he was sharing it with Harry, even if they didn't do it together. He had noticed the way the other blonde would keep his left arm lowered and tucked subtly into his side at all times, even tugging on his sleeve as if in fear of it riding up. It was odd behavior, as if the blonde was ashamed of being Marked (if that was the case) but Colin didn't really care about that. He only wondered if Harry noticed.

Slowly, he lowered his toothbrush to the sink, the plastic falling into the sink with a dull clatter as his fingers went slack. Would Harry be grateful if Colin could prove his suspicions, give him proof Draco was a Death Eater? He shuddered almost violently as his imagination went into overdrive with how Harry would show his gratitude.

Oh, Merlin... He _had_ to find out. He swallowed heavily as the idea sunk in. He'd have to find proof. He'd have to follow Malfoy. He'd have to find a way into Slytherin. He gulped audibly and stared at himself in the mirror. Yeah, for Harry he could find his Gryffindor courage and do it.

Hopefully.


	5. The Lion and the Snake

The next morning, Colin had to remind himself not to follow Harry. He had officially changed; he now followed Malfoy. He narrowed his eyes as the blonde sauntered into the Great Hall for breakfast, looking serious and paler than normal. One quick peek at Harry and Colin saw he had been watching, too.

Colin spent the new few days following Malfoy. The guy was rather boring, really. Colin barely had any photos... and of those, none were of what could be called 'suspicious activities'. He had cursed himself whenever he lost the other blonde and spent hours trying to locate him again, usually giving up before doing so. Nearly every day Colin would lose sight of Malfoy and he'd be missing for hours, sometimes even until breakfast the next day. He huffed in annoyance. How did Malfoy manage to slip away and where did he go for those hours? He didn't know but he felt it was important to find out.

As Colin nibbled on some dry toast on a cheerful, bright Saturday he noticed Malfoy slink into the Great Hall. He almost appeared to be sneaking into his usual seat, immediately busying himself with preparing his tea and burying his face into a newspaper. As soon as the blonde finished his tea, he stood and left the Hall just as stealthily as he'd entered. Just as he made to stand and follow, he saw Harry do the same from the corner of his eye and quickly grabbed a muffin a few seats down to cover for his rising. After a few minutes, Harry returned looking very disgruntled and Colin knew Malfoy had done his disappearing act again. It was a little disheartening to know that Harry hadn't been able to sort out where Malfoy went either.

By the time dinner was over, neither Gryffindor had seen Malfoy. Colin was sure the blonde was in his hiding spot. He sneaked along the corridor leading to the Slytherin dorms, wiping his sweaty hands off repeatedly on his trousers. He had never been down in the dungeons before and it was incredibly creepy. How did students _live_ down here? He shivered and rubbed his arms, cursing the ever-present chill. He quietly cast a Disillusionment charm and hid, hoping he could sneak into the Slytherin dorms behind a gullible first-year. He wondered if Harry had ever tried this...

Less than 10 minutes of waiting and Colin's good luck was answered when a small, nervous looking first-year requested entrance from the sour looking portrait. A few choice, barbed comments and the portrait swung open, nearly smacking the poor kid as it did so. Colin hurried in behind the small first-year, keeping close enough to not be noticed but trying hard not to bump into the Slytherin. He looked around, surprised that the common room looked a lot like the one in Gryffindor tower -with the exception of finer materials and color scheme. He looked around and quietly snuck across the nearly empty common room, heading towards what he hoped were the dorms. He glanced down the hallway and nearly sighed with relief when it was identical to what he was used to in Gryffindor. He quickly made his way towards the seventh year boys' dorms.

Colin was surprised to find the door unlocked and unwarded. Were Slytherins that trusting of their housemates? He shrugged and hurried towards the bed in the far corner; the grand bed and coverings emblazoned with the Malfoy crest and a large, ornate 'DM' sewn into nearly everything with delicate looking silver thread. With another furtive glance at the door, he swiftly made his way around the bed to open the large, dark wooden trunk at the end of the bed. With no surprise, he found it locked and heavily warded. He had no skill at disabling wards and he certainly couldn't put them back even if he did break through them. He softly sighed and went to the wardrobe. Nothing of importance would be left out but he'd always been curious.

He slowly opened the doors and had to stifle a gasp at the sheer amount of clothes he saw. He slowly reached out and ran a finger down the sleeve of a soft looking shirt and gasped softly at the feel of it. There were different sizes, the larger being fewer in number, and he wondered why. Did Draco share the wardrobe? Colin nearly laughed aloud at the idea that Draco would share... anything. He spent another few moments petting and stroking the soft material before he carefully took out his camera and took a few pictures.

A twin set of drawers drew Colin's attention next. He slowly opened the top one and nearly groaned when he realized it was the Slytherin's underwear drawer.

Curiously, he reached in and pulled out a pair and moaned softly when they were just as soft (if not softer) than the shirts he had been fondling... er, touching. He unfolded the garment with a chuckle and gulped when he realized he was holding a strangely altered pair of mugglish boxer briefs. The waist was rather small, but the front pocket was rather large in comparison. Oh Merlin. He shivered pleasantly as he realized Malfoy must be quite... well sized. Before he can do anything else (probably something embarrassing like fondle the silky underwear) the door was opening. He balled the garment in his fist, closed the drawer and shut the cabinet as quickly and quietly as he could before hurrying towards a dark corner. Just as his back connected with the wall, a soft glow appeared in the room and Colin nearly fainted when he saw Draco Malfoy.

He was in deep trouble. He hadn't thought to plan ahead to make sure he wouldn't be _caught_ in the room with the Slytherin.

Colin's eyes went wide as he took in the stalking blonde. He never saw the older boy up this close before and he felt his breath stutter embarrassingly as he took in Draco, almost savoring the opportunity. He hadn't realized how tall Draco was. He was sure he wouldn't even come up to the blonde's shoulder; the bloke had to be almost 7 feet tall! He watched, eagerly noting the way the school shirt strained against his heavily muscled arms and legs. Colin gulped as quietly as he could as Draco turned on his heel, his eyes sweeping past his darkened corner without pause. He had to suppress another gulp as his eyes roamed the blonde's front; he could easily make out each bump and ridge of the blonde's muscled abdominals through the thin shirt and the bulge in the front of his trousers was indeed impressive -even more so when Colin realized the blonde didn't look at all aroused.

Draco paced his room, muttering and clearly pissed off. "Stupid fucking Potter," he groused, clenching a fist as the other hand ran through his hair in a quick, agitated swipe. He imagined Harry's neck in his fist. Or maybe just swinging it towards his suspicious little face and a smirk appeared on his pale face. He stomped about for another moment, completely unaware he wasn't alone and started to strip in angry movements. He slowly calmed, firmly reminding himself that Potter could _guess_ all he wanted; the speccy git wouldn't ever get any proof and even if he did... it would likely be too late. He sighed miserably as he kicked off his trousers and grabbed a towel from the stack by the bathroom, slamming the bathroom door shut behind him.

Colin huffed out a breath he'd been holding since Malfoy had stormed into the room. The pale, gorgeous vision of a nearly naked Draco Malfoy refused to leave his mind and he wished fervently that he had had the nerve to sneak a picture when he'd had the chance. The glorious defined 'V' that peeked out at Colin from Malfoy's tight boxers wouldn't budge from his memory and he rather hoped it never did. He wished for the opportunity to run his tongue along it...

His eyebrows pinched together in annoyance as he thought over what he'd seen. Why was Malfoy cursing Harry so harshly? He looked ready to do murder, a far cry from a simple school-boy rivalry. He tried to ignore the nearly naked body he had just seen but it was really no use. His eyes flicked between the bathroom and main door, indecision gripped him and he didn't know what he should do.

Leave?

Stay?

Sneak over to the bathroom?

Merlin, he really _really_ wanted to see how different the Slytherin bathrooms were. Nodding decisively, Colin snuck across the room and easily turned the handle, again marveling at the trusting nature of Slytherins when it opened easily. He paused just inside the door, closing it quickly to keep the steam contained.

The bathroom was exactly the same, again except for color scheme and higher priced fixtures. The white, silver-grey and green tiles shone brightly in the bright bathroom lights. The stalls were all covered with frosted glass doors, instead of plastic curtains as well. He stared at the only occupied shower, his gut clenching with... something as he watched the silhouette of Malfoy move as he went through his ablutions.

Colin stared, fervently wishing the doors were clear instead of frosted. He stood, motionless, watching the shadowed figure move about. While he couldn't see details, the silhouette was rather clear and he could easily make out the older boy's form. He itched with curiosity, but he didn't move forward, fear keeping him firmly rooted. He breathed as deeply as he could, the scent of Malfoy's shampoo oddly erotic. It was spicy and citrusy at the same time and he knew he'd never be able to smell it again without having this image forever come to mind. He just stood outside of the door and watched. Apparently, the blonde wasted little time in the shower, making Colin jump with an inaudible squeak when he heard the water shut off.

He slunk back out of the bathroom, and before he could leave the dorm, the door opened again and he nearly ran into Blaise Zabini. He quickly pressed against the wall and silently cursed. The only good thing was that there was very little light in the room. He watched as Zabini lazily flicked his wand and easily grabbed something as it flew from his trunk, threw his school robes onto his bed with a careless toss and he was back out the door. The sigh of relief was cut off by Malfoy coming out of the bathroom.

Colin ground his teeth in annoyance. He couldn't stay here all night! He kept to the corner he was in, hidden by a large wing back chair. As much as he wanted to look, he couldn't risk his hiding spot to peek at the other blonde as he dressed for bed. Unable to resist any long, Colin peeked an eye around the chair and nearly swallowed his tongue when he caught a flash of bare, pale skin as Malfoy climbed into bed completely naked.

Quicker than he thought possible, Colin heard the steady soft breathing of a sleeping Malfoy. He carefully tiptoed out from his hiding spot, intent on leaving but he made the mistake of looking towards the bed.

The heavy, dark green hangings were left partially open and Colin could see some of Malfoy's face and body. He changed direction and eased over towards the bed, his hand coming up without his permission to sweep the hangings apart. He frowned lightly in confusion as he took in Malfoy.

The Slytherin was curled in on himself, his cheek resting against one pale hand as he slept. It reminded Colin, rather cutely, of his German Shepherd at home and he had to stifle an insane urge to giggle. Slowly, he eased his camera out and took a few pictures. He only wished Malfoy's left arm was better visible, but he didn't dare move the sleeping blonde. After awhile, the heavy rhythmic breathing was rather soothing and Colin found himself working back towards the nearest corner and sitting down on the floor, his back against the wall and just relaxing. He found very little useful information but the trip wasn't a total bust. He did get to almost see Malfoy naked. He again found himself wishing Malfoy's sleeping position was different. He'd very much like to see _all_ of the blonde. A hot spike of arousal shot through him and he had to force himself to stay still so he wouldn't rush over.

Colin drifted off to sleep, apparently, but was started awake by a whimpering sound. He wiped his eyes, and recast his Disillusionment charm as silently as he could just in case he had been in the room long enough for it to have faded. He looked around the dark room and his eyes were drawn to Malfoy's bed, the other blonde's pinched face clearly visible through the gap in the curtains. He looked around the room and the only other bed had the curtains drawn tight. Hopefully with silencing charms, too. Colin eased over towards Malfoy's bed and stopped in shocked when the blonde whimpered again and softly called out "Mum".

He was surprised when he felt his chest clench in sympathy for the blonde. He had never seen this side of Draco Malfoy before; he was pretty sure _no one_ had. He had only seen the arrogant, vengeful, rude and entitled side. Even though Malfoy was clearly suffering some sort of nightmare, Colin rather preferred this side of the older blonde. He wasn't sneering, smirking or calling him horrible names. He slowly reached a hand out, ready to yank it back at a moment's notice, and gently brushed the pale fringe off of Malfoy's damp face. He nearly sighed at the touch; the pale strands were like the silken shirts hanging in Malfoy's wardrobe. When it was clear Malfoy wasn't stirring, Colin stroked his hair again, gently smoothing the mussed strands down. He smiled softly when Malfoy sighed and turned into his touch.

Colin lost track of time again, his undisturbed soft touches going on for longer than it probably should have. He carded a hand through Malfoy's pale hair, delighting in the silky, soft texture again and nearly jumped back with a scream when Draco nuzzled into his hand with another sigh of pleasure and shifted his position. Immediately his eyes were drawn down and his mouth went dry as he finally got a glimpse of Draco's impressive package. He wasn't surprised to feel a sizzle of lust go through him, but it _did_ shock him that he had to stop himself from _ touching_ the sleeping blonde. It was one thing to look at a sleeping person... but another to touch them. It was creepy enough to look but touching crossed a line even he wasn't going to cross. Probably...

He slowly let his eyes roam Draco's fit form, his eyes finally landing on the exposed left arm. He gasped softly when his eyes landed on the Dark Mark, unease and disgust flashing through him as he stared at it. It was so stark against the pale skin, it was impossible not to see even in the dimly lit room. He gasped when Draco's eyes opened, his heart slowing slowly when he realized the blonde wasn't actually awake. The strange color circling the grey and eerie way they shined confused Colin but they closed before he could look long enough to understand why.

He slowly backed away from the sleeping blonde, wondering why he hadn't taken a photo of the clearly visible Dark Mark. Didn't he want to show Harry proof? He sighed quietly, slinking out of the dorm room and sighing heavily with relief the moment he stepped into the corridor and out of the common rooms. He scowled lightly as he walked, not bothering to sneak since he trusted his Disillusionment charm to hide him well enough in the dimly lit, slumbering castle.

Colin carefully eased into his dorm room, set his camera down gently on his desk and changed for bed. He still didn't know why he didn't get the proof he needed when he had the chance. Surely, he didn't feel sorry for Draco Malfoy; did he? It was hard to work up the same hard feelings for the other blonde after he'd seen how tormented he was. It was nearly an automatic response to comfort him, even though he knew Malfoy would never do the same thing for him. He was also really sure the Slytherin wouldn't have appreciated it if he had been awake. He absently looked down in his lap, blinking in surprise as he noticed for the first time he was holding the pair of silken underwear he had picked up from Malfoy's drawers. He blushed but didn't put them down, running the fabric through his splayed fingers as he continued to think. He absently closed his hangings and cast as many privacy spells as he could. He wiggled down his bed, searching blindly for the hiding spot between his mattresses for the photos he kept there.

Slowly, he brought out the slim stack of pictures. Only the numerous preservation charms were keeping the often-looked through pictures in the like new condition they were in. Colin usually looked through them at least once a day. He shuffled through the pictures, staring at each intently before moving onto the next one. All of them were of Harry, save the very last one. Usually, his thoughts were clear when he looked through them. Tonight, he wasn't so sure about himself.

He had been so intent on finding proof for Harry, the only reason he had braved the Slytherin dungeons, so he didn't know why he was suddenly feeling sympathy for the older blonde. With a soft sigh, he studied the pictures, watching the photos move and Harry go through a variety of motions in each photo. Rarely, though, did the older boy smile. The second to last picture, Harry finally smiled. It was a small, barely noticeable quirk of the older boy's lips, but Colin easily saw it. Harry was smiling... at Malfoy. It wasn't a taunting smile one would expect of the rivals. Even he couldn't quite identify what it meant. It wasn't exactly happy. It wasn't exactly anything that could be called pleasant... but there it was, regardless. Colin shifted to the last picture: Draco Malfoy, glaring down the corridor (not even seeing Colin as he hid behind a suit of armor) at Harry's retreating back.

Colin sighed quietly again, resolving to keep the new information to himself for awhile. Maybe he wouldn't ever tell Harry. He was getting less and less sure of the older boy returning his feelings and he felt an ache in his chest. Absently he rubbed at his chest, vaguely aware he was softly singing. He might have felt embarrassed without the privacy spells, but thankfully he was in his own little world, free to speak his mind and feelings.

"You don't own me, I'm not just one of your many toys... You don't own me, don't say I can't go with other boys," he sang in a whisper, gently stroking the photo of Harry with the barely-there smile. "I'm young and I love to be young, I'm free and I love to be free... to live my life the way I want...*****" he trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yes, he would keep the secret to himself for now. As much as he wanted to share it with Harry, he really didn't know what the older boy would do if he knew. It was a guarantee he would tell Weasley and Granger and he cringed, loathing the idea of either of them knowing. He nearly groaned with frustration. He didn't want to protect Malfoy but he had a feeling the older blonde was an unwilling player in the same way that Harry was. He rolled his eyes, slightly amused at his overly dramatic inner musings.

He sighed softly, returned his photos to their hiding spot and slowly slid down in his bed, trying to get comfortable and willed himself to sleep.

_(_**_*_**_Song: You Don't Own Me sung by Lesley Gore (written by: John Madara and Dave White Tricker). I don't own it... just using it.)_


	6. Bathroom of fate

Colin spent the next week watching and waiting. He wasn't surprised to see Harry sneaking about after Draco, but he was surprised when he found Harry walking around an abandoned corridor, muttering under his breath and glaring at a blank wall. What was that about? With a shrug, unable to find Draco and unwilling to let Harry see him, Colin made his way back to the common room. As he stepped into the common room, he rolled his eyes when he spotted Hermione and Ron on one of the sofas. Uncaring if he was interrupting, he loudly flopped onto one of the chairs by the fireplace, smirking to himself when the pair sprung apart. He fiddled with his camera but kept his attention on the pair.

"Shouldn't Harry be back by now?" Ron asked, looking towards the portrait opening.

Hermione smoothed the rumbled shirt. "I suppose," she answered absently with a shrug. "He seemed rather preoccupied during dinner though," she said, her hands now smoothing her hair back from her temples. She stole a glance around the room, only Colin was about and he was near the fire and playing with his stupid camera. "You don't suppose he's looking for... something, do you?" she asked Ron, lowering her voice.

"I dunno," Ron said with an uncaring shrug. He was just annoyed they'd stopped kissing. Stupid Creevey... "How likely is it that they're in the castle?"

Hermione's head wiped around and she sent a scathing glare at the red-head. "Ronald!" she scolded before crossing her arms over her chest with a huff. "Keep your voice down," she muttered in a low hiss. "And I don't know how likely it is-"

Before she could finish, both looked up when they heard a shuffling bang and Harry stumbled into the common room, a scowl on his face. "What?" he asked, noticing the attention he was getting.

"Nothing, mate," Ron said.

"Nothing," Hermione said.

Harry nodded, lips pursed. "Right. I'm off to bed," he muttered. He didn't feel like going over the confusing thoughts he had until the morning. He was tired of having discussions with Ron and Hermione that Ron daydreamed through and Hermione doubted his ideas. He would much rather sleep on it and just tell his friends in the morning. He wandered up the stairs, mind whirling. What was Draco doing in the Room of Requirement? He had waited in the corridor for hours and still had no answers. It was making him grumpy and out of sorts, especially since he could no longer talk about it with Ron and Hermione. Both of them would glare at him, call him obsessed and refuse to talk any more about it the moment he mentioned Malfoy.

~o.O~

Colin smirked, nearly shouting with glee and pumping his fist in the air, as he followed Draco into an abandoned bathroom. He knew it wasn't the normal place the other blonde disappeared to but it was exciting nonetheless. He paused at the doorway, listening as he heard voices. He expected Draco but not another person. Sneaking a peek around the doorway, he nearly dropped his camera when he saw a ghost talking with Draco. He had never been down here before but it looked like Draco had been. Especially if the easy way he was speaking to the ghost was any indicator. Colin scootched closer, his curiosity drawing him into the bathroom. His camera hung from lax fingers as he took in the sight before him. As if acting on their own, his hands cradled the camera as his finger unerringly clicked a few pictures, thankfully the sounds in the bathroom covered any noise the camera may have made.

"Don't," cooed Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. "Don't... tell me what's wrong... I can help you..."

Malfoy snorted rudely. "No one can help me," he said. His whole body was trembling. "I can't do it... I can't... It won't work... and unless I do it soon... he says he'll kill me…" But the worst part, he couldn't even utter aloud; his parents were being threatened as well.

Colin peeked into the bathroom, his breath catching as he looked at the older blonde. Shock slowly faded into... something else as he took in the normally impeccably groomed blonde hair that was mussed, as if Malfoy had been constantly running his fingers through it. His shirt was nearly torn off, buttons missing (his eyes flitted around and he counted several on the floor) and large tears and holes dotting the fine material as it clung to his shoulders and upper arms. He barely noticed himself shiver as his eyes wandered Malfoy's face, his normally blank (or cruelly sneering) face was twisted in pain, his cheeks wet and his lips pressed together so hard they were nearly white instead of their usual rosy hue. Every line of the blonde's body was taut with stress even though he was nearly trembling as his fists clenched where they rested on the sink's ledge.

Draco Malfoy, Ice Prince of Slytherin, was the picture of misery.

Colin realized, with a shock so huge it seemed to root him to the spot, that Malfoy was crying (actually crying) tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin.

Draco gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Colin staring at him over his shoulder. He wheeled around, drawing his wand.

Colin stood, still rooted to the spot as a stinging hex caught him right in the leg. He'd had the brief hope that if he didn't draw his wand that Draco wouldn't either. As he cried out in pain and stumbled to the grimy tile floor, he realized how stupid he had been. Of course Malfoy would hex him. He had caught the Slytherin at a moment he would never want another soul to witness. He vaguely heard Myrtle screaming again.

"No! No! Stop it!" squealed Moaning Myrtle, her voice echoing loudly around the tiled room. "Stop! STOP!"

Colin glanced up to see Malfoy standing over him, his wand still raised and aimed right at him. He cringed and held his hands up in front of himself, not really expecting it to do any good but helpless to do anything else at the moment. "Please, don't! I'm sorry!" he stuttered out, his chest hitching with fear. He felt his eyes prickle and he nearly whimpered, unsure if giving into the urge to cry and grovel would appease or enrage the older blonde. He felt only a sliver of shame; he was a _Gryffindor,_ for Merlin's sake, he shouldn't be acting this way but everything had happened so fast! He didn't mind admitting, if only to himself, that the blonde was down right terrifying right now. Desperation and fear of ridicule added a very dangerous edge to the Slytherin.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't?" Draco growled, subtly wiping the tears from his face and chin with the back of his hand. He glared down at the smaller boy, trying to ignore the twinge of regret and discomfort as he looked at the fallen boy. He refused to be mocked or pitied. He squatted down and raised his wand again, feeling like a complete bastard when Colin cringed again, a pitiful whimper sounding in his throat. "It's quite rude to sneak up on someone," he chastised lowly, glaring at the cowering boy.

"I know, I'm sorry! I didn't know it was you! I heard someone in here and they were upset. I just wanted to see if I could help or maybe offer an ear," Colin rambled, his voice trembling. He braved a glance up and whimpered again when he saw Malfoy's wand was still aimed at him. Right at his chest. "I won't tell anyone, I promise! I'm sorry!" he continued, feeling tears sting his eyes and nearly moaning with mortification when he couldn't control them.

Draco sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He didn't know why but he was not at all enjoying the trembling blonde's reaction. Usually he quite enjoyed causing fear and humiliation whenever he could. He should feel especially entitled since the Gryffindor had intruded on his privacy at an embarrassingly weak point. He slowly pocketed his wand and sharply nudged Colin's shoulder. "Shut up. I get it, Creevey. Just... shut up! Merlin!" he yelled and ran a hand through his hair with a jerky, agitated move. Merlin, the whining and blubbering was tearing at something inside and it _hurt_; which was annoying.

Colin sniffled and shifted on the floor, bringing his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins, trying to make himself as small as possible. "I am sorry, though. I didn't mean to intrude on a... private moment." He grimaced in pain and jumped with an embarrassing squeak when Malfoy made a move towards him.

Draco rolled his eyes, easily unclasped Colin's hands and gently rolled up the leg of Colin's pants. He winced as he saw the angry red skin. "Oh, buggering fuck," he hissed. "I didn't... I'm... fuck. You really shouldn't surprise people," he finally said through gritted teach, unwilling to voice the apology he felt. He slowly brought out his wand, glaring when the younger blonde winced, and muttered the only healing spell he knew. He watched as the skin returned to normal (well, less pink at least) and soundlessly breathed a sigh of relief. He inched closer and laid a hand on Colin's newly healed skin, running a hand over it unconsciously as he looked up at the other boy. "Better?" he asked softly. He blinked, unsure where the caring tone had come from, and then scowled darkly.

Colin just nodded, gulping down another string of embarrassing words. "Yes, thank you," he said quietly instead. He kept his gaze on Malfoy's face, unwilling to bring attention to the way the older blonde's hand was still absently stroking his leg. Or the fact that the Slytherin was now without a shirt. His eyes widened against his will as he stared at the bare chest in front of him. He had to sit on his hands so he didn't reach out and trace each dip and divot between the muscles on the pale chest. He'd no idea the Slytherin was so... built. "Are you... better?" he asked timidly, wanting to know but hoping the older boy didn't rage at him again.

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. Of all the people... well, at least it wasn't Potter that found him. "No," he said shortly before sliding his feet out from under him and sitting on the floor next to Colin. "It won't ever be better. I can't do this and I'm... I don't know what to do," he said tightly, running a hand over his face as his shoulders sagged ever so slightly.

Colin shifted, slowly approaching the prone blonde and settling himself next to Malfoy. He didn't know what 'this' was or what he was meant to do but he didn't ask, knowing Malfoy wouldn't tell him and probably would hex him again before getting up and leaving. "Maybe you need someone to help you?"

Draco snorted with contempt. "No; no one can help me. This is something I have to do alone." If he wasn't going to allow Severus to help, why would he even consider some scrawny Gryffindor?

"Are you sure?" Colin asked quietly. When Malfoy just looked over at him with an icy glare, he flushed and averted his eyes. "Alright, fine. Maybe you just need someone to talk to? I'm a good listener, I do shut up on occasion, I promise. I won't tell anyone anything. I promise." He very nearly told the secrets he knew about Harry as proof but at the last moment, resisted. Not only did it show that he indeed lacked the ability to keep things to himself but he didn't know if he was willing to share that information yet.

Draco snorted again, with a tinge of humor this time. "Right, sure, Creevey. Like you wouldn't go running off to the Golden Trio the moment I told you something."

"I wouldn't," Colin said, turning to Malfoy with a serious expression. "Harry doesn't even listen to me anyway," he said morosely. "He's busy doing something and the other two just laugh at me. Even if you said something important I wouldn't tell _them_." He slowly reached out and gently took Malfoy's clenched fist, smiling softly when the fingers loosened a little. "I'm not saying that so I can tattle on you. I really want to help." He soothed the fingers all the way open, smoothing his thumb across one broad, pale palm.

There was a long moment of stunned silence. "Why?"

Colin shrugged, playing with the long pale fingers on Draco's hand. He nearly smiled at the neatly groomed nails, instead frowning at the small bruises and cuts dotting the fine, slim fingers. "I don't know. I just figured you could use it. Right?" he glanced up at Draco, peeking at the older blonde through his lashes and fringe. "Everyone needs someone they can talk to," he said seriously, thinking of Rachiel.

Draco looked away, his throat working as he struggled with words. "I don't know, I've... I can't," he mumbled, at a loss and truly not knowing what to do. Why would an annoying Gryffindor offer to help him? Did he truly just want to help? Why the fuck was he even considering it? He glanced at Colin and nearly snorted again at the earnest expression on the younger blonde's face. "Just... shut up a moment and let me think."

"Alright," Colin said, sounding rather chipper. He didn't pull his hand away from Draco's and found it rather soothing, especially when Draco's hand closed around his. For the next 10 minutes they just sat on the floor, inching closer to each other until Colin was practically in the older blonde's lap. Not that he'd complain but he hadn't any clue the Slytherin would be so accepting of prolonged contact with him. He hummed softly as he rested his head against Draco's shoulder.

"I still can't tell you anything but..." Draco paused and worried his bottom lip slightly, avoiding Colin's gaze. "I'm alright with... you... and this..." he said softly, waving a hand dismissively over their nearly joined bodies. He didn't often get contact with other people... well, he did but it was brief and it was rarely comforting. It was rather surprising it was with Creevey of all people, but he was disturbingly alright with using the Gryffindor if he was offering. He wondered if it made him a complete bastard to be soothed by the very notion of using another person... then shrugged, unconcerned.

"Well, that's OK," Colin said quickly. "I don't mind. I like cuddling, I just don't-"

Draco leaned away sharply. "We are not _cuddling_," he huffed with a sneer, cutting Colin off and leaning back with an affronted expression on his face.

"Uh... yeah, alright. I mean... I like uh, spending time with people. I just don't get a chance to a lot."

Draco rolled his eyes, feeling more amused than annoyed. "I wonder why..." he said dryly. "Right, well..." he coughed lightly, finally feeling awkward and slightly uncomfortable in their positions on the floor. "I need to get back."

"Oh! Right," Colin said, his cheeks heating with an embarrassed flush. "I didn't mean... Ah, right," he said and awkwardly stood, wobbling a little on his still stinging leg.

Draco surged forward but stopped himself from grabbing the Gryffindor at the last moment. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, firmly. "You alright?" he asked, surprised by the concern in his own voice. He narrowed his eyes slightly when he saw another blush on Colin's face.

"Y-yes," Colin stammered, forcing his weight on his leg. "I think it was just from laying on it for so long..." he winced as he walked in a small circle. "It feels loads better," he said, hoping to sooth any of Draco's worries.

"Alright," Draco said slowly, backing away from the smaller blonde. "Right, well now you know where I hide," he smirked when Colin flushed again. "You can, uh, stop by again if you want."

"I will," Colin said, nodding emphatically. "If you want, you can let me know and I'll meet you anywhere... if you need it." Colin said quietly, feeling proud of himself for having the courage to voice his hopes. He expected Draco to laugh at him, but he still didn't regret saying it.

"Alright," Draco said quietly, his eyes fluttering shut a moment later in mortification. "You tell anyone and I'll-"

"I won't! I promise!" Colin shouted, not wanting to hear what Draco would do. He nearly shuddered at the thought; Slytherins knew dark curses, many of them learning even before coming to Hogwarts. With a father like Lucius, Colin could only imagine what sort of curses, jinxes, spells or hexes Malfoy knew. "Please, I just want to help... I don't..." he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I know you're into some deep stuff but I don't care about that."

Draco glared at Colin, his eyes narrowing a moment later. "If you know, you honestly expect me to believe you don't care?"

Colin just shook his head. "I don't." He saw the Dark Mark, so he was thinking whatever had brought Draco to his place in tears was pretty bad. He just couldn't imagine what it could be, though. What could _they_ possibly ask of a 17 year old?

Draco just gave Colin a long measuring look before slowly nodding. "Fine. We'll see how long that attitude lasts," he sneered before his face went blank. "I don't say this... ah... ever... but... thanks," he mumbled, embarrassed and annoyed. He rolled his eyes when Colin just beamed up at him and nodded. He stiffened when the younger blonde stumbled forward and had the nerve to hug him. He awkwardly stood there, his arms dangling limply as Colin rested his head on his chest. By the time he felt comfortable enough to at least pat the other boy on the back, Colin had released him and hobbled out of the bathroom. "Well, buggering shit," Draco muttered to the empty bathroom.

Colin paused on his way down the hallway, catching his breath and rubbing his leg. It really wasn't as bad as it was, but it still tingled unpleasantly with every step. "Ugh," he grimaced, trying to sooth the tingling limb. He jerked up when he saw Harry. "Harry!" His eyes darted nervously between the older boy and the bathroom he'd just left Draco in. He couldn't let Harry go in there; Merlin alone knew what would happen.

Harry turned, a look of surprise on his face. "Colin? What are you doing down here?" he asked, looking around. He saw Malfoy on the map a few minutes ago when he'd checked it before leaving his dorm room but hadn't noticed Colin anywhere near by. Unease prickled through him.

"I just wanted a quiet spot to think..." Colin said. "Plus the big sinks work great to develop my pictures," he added quickly, holding up his camera. He fiddled with the strap nervously, watching Harry's eyes dart from him to the bathroom a few times. "Could you give me a hand?" he finally asked, limping slightly as he walked towards Harry. He hid a smirk when Harry's eyes widened and he hurried over, easing Colin's arm over his shoulders for support. His palms immediately moistened as his heart-rate sped up. He had to consciously stop himself from burying his noise in Harry's neck and inhaling. Even though he knew Harry didn't see him like that (or possibly at all) he couldn't help nearly swooning at being so close to the older boy. His skin practically burned where Harry's hand rested high up on his hip. Even if things were... changing, it didn't override nearly 5 years of nearly obsessive adoration.

Harry looked down, a confused frown on his face. "What happened? Are you OK?" he asked, still frowning slightly. He silently hoped Colin hadn't run into Malfoy. The younger blonde looked too calm to have seen the Slytherin though and he mentally cursed as he realized he must have just missed Malfoy. He really should have brought the map with him but he was sick of the irate (or pitying) glances he got from Ron or Hermione whenever he had the sodding thing anymore. He didn't stare at it _that_ often, for Merlin's sake.

"Yeah, just tripped on an uneven stone," Colin said, fabricating an embarrassed tone. "Thanks," he said looking up at Harry with a small smile. He scowled slightly when Harry ignored his smile and just focused on looking straight ahead.

Harry shrugged his free shoulder. "No problem," he said, sending one last glance towards the abandoned bathroom before helping Colin back up to the Gryffindor tower.

After a few quiet moments, Colin couldn't keep his curiosity to himself. "What were _you_ doing down there?"

Harry stumbled slightly, the question taking him by surprise. He hadn't anticipated running into anyone and needing an excuse. "Oh, uh, sometimes I talk to Myrtle," he said lamely.

"Oh," Colin hummed. "Why?"

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. Colin obviously wouldn't understand his need to talk to someone that didn't drool or squeal over his every word. "I dunno," Harry said and shrugged his unoccupied shoulder again. "She helped me in fourth year and it's just become a habit now..."

Colin just hummed again, sure Harry wouldn't appreciate any more questions. As they reached the portrait hole, Harry helped him into the common room and over to the chair he usually sat in.

"Need help to your dorm?"

Colin paused, considering. It was very tempting to lure Harry into his dorm... "No," he finally said, toying with his camera. He really needed a moment alone to check out his pictures and he couldn't do that with Harry around or in the company of his nosy dorm mates. "Thanks, Harry," he said in an off handed manner, his focus now on his camera and possible pictures. He barely registered Harry's presence as the older boy left.

"Welcome," Harry said and backed towards his own dorm room, giving Colin an odd look. He didn't miss the adoring looks and near constant shadow but he did wonder what changed to have Colin barely even looking at him. Was he that into his photography? (He felt rather ludicrous when he realized he was a little annoyed at being so easily forgotten.) Colin had accepted his apology, right? Figuring Colin just needed some time to himself, Harry made his way to his dorm without a look back.

Colin watched as Harry slowly made his way to his own dorm, his fingers deftly removing the back of his camera. He didn't know the extent of what Harry felt for Malfoy but he was now determined to get there first (quite enjoying the idea of taking something that Harry wanted more than he probably should).

He smirked; he had a lot more to offer the Slytherin and he'd do anything to make sure he would succeed. He muttered the numerous spells to develop his pictures and sorted through them with a small smile. Most of them in this batch were of Draco. He frowned slightly as he slowly ran a finger down picture-Draco's cheek when he saw a scared look flicker across the blonde's face.

He didn't know if he could help, but he vowed to try. Something changed earlier and he found himself feeling rather warm when he thought about Draco.


	7. Discoveries

Draco absently ran a hand over his face, grimacing at the stiff, slightly sticky feel of his skin. He was no longer sweating and his heart had finally calmed down. Now that he was no longer nearly mindless with lust, a strange feeling of wrongness had settled over him that he found disconcerting. Unknown and new. This wasn't the first time he and Pansy had laid in his bed, sated and sleepy after a vigorous round of shagging. He'd lost count how many times Pansy was in the same position as she was in now; curled into his side with a hand lightly resting on his chest. His brow furrowed slightly as he thought. Merlin, since their fifth year they'd been steady shagging partners whenever either of them weren't in a relationship. The feelings coursing through him currently have never plagued him before, though.

He tried to subtly shift his body and nearly groaned aloud when the body pressing against his moved. He closed his eyes, turned his head and took a deep breath, mostly to keep himself from snarling or shoving Pansy off of him. He willed himself to lie still as one small, dainty finger traced small circles through the hair on his chest. His nose wrinkled as the smell of her hit him. Normally he'd find her scent appealing, especially when she was warm and naked, pressed against him. Now, though, he found himself fighting the urge to rudely kick her from his bed.

Everything just felt off. The soft curves. Her too soft skin. And again, her smell. It stuck in his nose and in the back of his throat in a way that was nearly nauseating.

His mind drifted, lost in thoughts of the strange but comforting dream (at least, he was rather sure it had been a dream) of warmth and comfort. Of a soothing, gentle caress across his brow and through his hair. He shivered lightly in memory and scowled. He did't want such treatment from Pansy and he found it vaguely unsettling. He nearly cursed when Pansy shifted, her dull brown eyes peeking up at him through her lashes in a move Draco was sure the girl thought appealing. He found himself wishing they were more of a soft, chocolate color and scowled.

"Alright there, Drakey?" Pansy whispered, her voice low but still high pitched. Her voice was wrong, too; high and annoying. Feminine.

Draco fought the urge to shudder. No matter how many times he'd said not to, she still used that insufferable nickname. He clenched his teeth in annoyance. "Yes," he said shortly. He slapped at her hand as she continued her movements on his chest and stomach, annoyed and irritated when it drifted lower. He would have probably been surprised that the actions weren't at all stimulating if he hadn't already come to that conclusion moments ago. "You should go," he said, sighing inaudibly with relief when the slow caresses stopped. He couldn't handle Pansy shrieking at him if he had to verbally refuse her.

"Aw, but Drakey," Pansy cooed quietly, her voice going slightly shrill. "I haven't the energy to move," she added in a throaty whisper as her hand slid down his stomach again. She gasped softly when he slapped at her again, rudely shoving her hand off of him. Before she could ask what his problem was, she felt him move and turn away from her. "What?" she demanded, no longer sounding coy or playful. Irritation prickled through her. It wasn't like she wanted to cuddle or anything but it wasn't out of the question to have a second go. She knew Draco didn't buy her lacking energy but she hated when he pushed her away so soon. It always made her feel cheap and used. Uncaring of her nude state, she sat up and scowled at Draco with her hands on her hips.

"Go," Draco said lowly, his voice almost a growl. He fisted his hands in an effort to keep himself from shoving Pansy out of his room bodily; she deserved better treatment than that. He held his head, grabbing the sheet and covering himself with a flick of his wrist. He wasn't shy but he no longer wanted her looking at him. It felt wrong to have her seeing him like that. "Now," he added in a hissed whisper.

Pansy gaped unattractively for a moment before slapping the bed in front of her in a fit. "You bastard! You can't just throw me out!" she screeched.

"I can," Draco said, turning toward her, looking at her with a cold expression. "I am."

Pansy huffed, grabbing her clothes from the end of the bed. In jerky movements, she stepped into her skirt, not even bothering with her panties. "You will regret this," she said through clenched teeth, hastily pulling her shirt over her head and fluffing her hair as she pulled it though. "If you think, for one moment, that I'll come rushing over at your beck and call again, you're... you're..." She faltered for a moment; she didn't really want to cut Draco off from her but she also didn't want the bastard thinking he could use her in such a way either. "You're sadly mistaken," she ended with a quiet, vehement whisper, glaring angrily at the blonde.

Without turning to look at her, Draco shrugged carelessly. He didn't really see himself approaching Pansy again, not with the his most recent thoughts. It didn't feel like something that would change anytime soon. "Fine," he said shortly. He slowly turned, a malicious smirk on his face that made Pansy recoil away slightly before she could stop herself. "If you'll please remove yourself," he said firmly, waving a hand at her dismissively. His smirk grew when she huffed and stomped her foot before twirling away with a muttered curse. "And be quiet, it's late and there are people sleeping," he called after her.

"Fuck you," Pansy muttered to herself, annoyed and irritated with herself when she did indeed slink quietly out of Draco's room. By the time she reached her own dorm room, her seething anger was replaced with confusion and hurt. Never before had Draco been so brusk or cold to her, especially after they'd been together. Occasionally, he would be a right bastard when they weren't alone but that was just how the blonde was. She'd gotten used to it over the years. With a frustrated huff, she kicked her door and bit back a groan of pain and hobbled over to her bed, flopping down on it with another huff. If she didn't know better, she would swear that Draco had brought an end to their arrangement and she didn't know how she felt about that. She enjoyed the time they spent together, of course, but it wasn't like she loved the bastard.

She sighed and closed her eyes. No, she didn't love Draco but it was going to really suck not having him around as her personal stress reliever, though. A smirk slowly crawled onto her face. She could go a lot longer than Draco could without sex and when _he_ came groveling to _her_, she was going to make him sweat. And beg.

~o.O~

Draco wandered the abandoned halls, his mind jumping to various thoughts at a nearly dizzying rate.

He thought he was wandering aimlessly and blinked with surprise when he found himself looking up at 'his' door into the Room of Requirement. With a snort of dark amusement, he opened the door and made his way through the towering piles of junk to the broken vanishing cabinet. He stared at it and naturally his thoughts tried to shy away from the insane task he was given. He knew he should work on it but he just couldn't muster up the desire to.

He would cry like a home-sick first year if he wasn't already perversely used to his assignment. He still didn't understand how he was expected to realistically complete his task. He didn't think anyone could do it, except maybe for the Dark Lord himself. He sighed, the low grade terror and fear of failure still present no matter how much he tried to will it away. He glared at the broken cabinet, unsure how to get the bloody thing to work. He turned away with a disgusted noise and made to leave but he caught a flash of his reflection in an old cracked mirror.

Draco slowly approached the mirror, his brow slowly pinching with displeasure as he took a good look at himself. Even in the cracked image he could easily make out the tell-tale features he'd come to know and recognize. He scowled and found himself wondering if Pansy had noticed as well. Usually he made sure it was dark, especially this close to when he would change (the rare times he allowed Pansy to be near him) before he even allowed her in his room. His eyes flick around his features, taking careful stock of the noticeable changes.

He had grown taller, not enough for most people to notice, but enough to be obvious to him since he saw the cuffs of his shirt and the hems of his pants a good two inches above where they normally ride. He snorted, a short sound of annoyance. He usually was a lot more aware and wouldn't have been caught in the wrong size. It looked just ridiculous.

His shoulders, chest and arms were all noticeably larger. His shirt wasn't buttoned in his earlier haste to stretch his legs and he had failed to notice that he would have had an issue getting the edges to meet. He flexed his arms a little, grinning despite his annoyance when he heard a soft tearing sound as his shirt seems gave way a little. He would regret the damage to the fine garment later but right now, he enjoyed the evidence of his strength.

He ran an agitated hand through his hair next. It was highly frustrating when he felt his hair thicken and darken slightly. He rather enjoyed the thickness and found himself wishing it would stay like that but he hated the way the color changed. He watched as his hair flopped back down, a graceful curve of the pale strands covering one eye slightly. It was just another reminder of how much he would change... even if his body wound up being covered in nearly white 'fur' later. He rubbed a hand over his jaw and grimaced at the loud rasp of stubble.

Draco leaned forward, looking closely at his eyes. A long sigh left his lips as he took in the change there, too. Normally he (or anyone else allowed close enough) would only see silvery grey, eyes that were identical to his father's. Now they were almost entirely an unearthly amber, silvery flecks speckling the amber color. He tilted his head, turning it this way and that watching with fascination as the silver morphed and changed slightly with different angles. Overall, it was quite bad-ass, he had to admit.

Lastly, he slowly lifted his top lip for a moment and sighed heavily when he noticed his elongated canines.

Buggering Fuck.

He only had another day or so before he needed to secure himself. He hated having to do so but loathed the idea of harming someone else. For the most part he'd accepted the fact he was a werewolf. He didn't think about it often, trying to keep such thoughts to himself mostly when he went home and feared his thoughts weren't kept to himself. He did not want anyone else to know about it. He'd only told Severus and that was only because he needed a complicated potion and had been very pleased to learn his godfather was very proficient in brewing the rare potion already.

The wall of the Room shimmered slightly and a window appeared, letting in the bright moonlight. Draco slowly walked over towards the window and gazed out before looking up. He glared up at the nearly full moon, a moue of displeasure on his face. He cursed, calling himself all sorts of names when he realized he hadn't kept track of the fullness of the moon like he should have. He cursed again, this time cursing the Dark Lord and the insane tasks he had been given. He glanced back up at the nearly full moon, a look of longing flitting across his face briefly.

Another part of the wall shimmered and a working clock appeared next to the window. It was nearly 2 am. He winced; there was no way he was waking Severus now, no matter what the older man had told him. It wasn't exactly subtle, or hard to figure out, that 'any time' was not a literal meaning. He did not relish the idea of dealing with a cranky Potions Professor, regardless of his current need. With a last glance at the cabinet, he walked out of the Room of Requirement, pausing outside the door only long enough to make sure the door disappeared before making his way back down to his room.

He eased into his room and stripped, dropping his clothes carelessly to the floor. He made his way to his wardrobe and carefully pushed his clothes aside and reached into the false back where he kept his potions. He sighed when he realized he only had two vials left. He'd have to see Severus in the morning, something he'd hoped he could push off for another day. He carefully put his clothes back, eyeing the larger sizes; he fingered the silky material and made a mental note to bring a few with him. With another sigh, he collapsed on his bed, not even bothering to re-dress.

~O.o~

Draco made his way to Severus' private quarters first thing in the morning, having only enough patience to wait about an hour after sunrise. He expected the dour expression and snapped responses. He told a blank faced Potion Master about his need and sighed with relief when Severus invited him in, even if it seemed rather reluctant and gratefully accepted a cup of strong tea while he waited for his potions. His thoughts, as they often did in this situation, drifted to the first time he'd come here.

He'd been bitten a day after a full moon and he'd rushed to Severus in a blind panic. He'd been hopeful that his godfather could help him and had nearly fainted with relief when Severus had nodded. His first change went without the aid of a potion and he'd nearly clawed his way out of Severus' private quarters. He still shivered at the raw power of the wolf he felt that first time; a large part of him had enjoyed the surge of power. It had been at once thrilling and absolutely terrifying.

He had been nearly inconsolable the first few months. He'd always been raised with pure blood values and taught to look down upon those with creature blood, even dark creatures like werewolves (he kept his thoughts as to why they were welcomed in the Dark Lord's followers to himself). He didn't know if he had been bitten on purpose or not. Severus had told him of no known plans (and he felt confident that Severus would have been told) and he didn't know what to think. He thought the Dark Lord had _control_ over the werewolves; why would one just randomly decide to bite him? He still didn't know. He didn't even know who had bitten him. He hadn't been home since, he was wary one of the werewolves that hung around the Dark Lord would recognize him for what he was and say something. He felt a deep terror whenever he thought about the Dark Lord knowing that about him and he didn't know why. He was snapped out his thoughts when Severus came back, his robes billowing out behind him in the familiar way.

"Are you well?" Severus asked as he handed Draco a few vials of freshly brewed Wolfsbane potion. He refused to show the true level of his concern and regret that he had to brew the potion for his godson. He held his tongue on trying to talk the boy into telling his parents as well, since he always got the same response: a firm 'No' and a rude eye roll. He didn't blame Draco for being reluctant but he still felt his old friends deserved to know such a large piece of information about their son. He wasn't as sure as Draco seemed to be that Lucius (or Narcissa) would take the news badly.

Draco pocketed the vials carefully. "As well as to be expected," he drawled, settling back against his seat. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I will also need use of your private room," he said in a way that also was a question. He didn't want to just assume he wold be given access every month, as much as he wanted to. He'd been relieved to have found somewhere close by to keep himself sequestered during the few days of the full moon. Between then strong locks (Muggle and locking charms) and Severus' nearly impenetrable wards, Draco felt secure that he wouldn't cause anyone harm. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud, but he found himself begrudgingly respecting Remus Lupin. In the brief time the man taught at Hogwarts, he had no clue he was a werewolf until his sudden departure. By then, the entire school had heard Weasley bragging about something or other. Occasionally, when feeling especially crazy, he considered contacting the older man.

"Of course," Severus nodded once. "I'll let the Headmaster know you'll be missing classes." He'd been able to avert suspicion by claiming Draco was tutoring under him for his own Potion mastery. It wasn't easy to convince Dumbledore that Draco needed to sequester himself, the old coot's eyes did that infernal twinkling when he'd informed him, and at times he was sure he knew something else was going on. Since Draco easily made up any work he missed the few days he was being 'tutored', Dumbledore hadn't any reason to refuse.

Draco nodded, a small smile on his face. "Thank you." While he really was going for his mastery of Potions, it wasn't going to be for another two years and he couldn't help the perverse thrill he felt at putting one over Dumbledore. "I'll return this evening."

Severus inclined his head in acknowledgement and made a curt 'shooing' gesture, only giving in to the small returning smile when Draco left.

~o.O~

Colin suppressed a happy giggle when he finally located Draco in an abandoned hallway. He nearly slapped himself on the forehead when he realized Draco had been going into the Room of Requirement the whole time. He had followed Harry there enough times to know it well. He settled himself down, making himself as comfortable as he could and sorted through his pictures but he kept most of his attention on the door Draco had disappeared through over an hour ago.

As Colin checked the time with a quick _tempus_, he shifted in his spot before standing and rubbing the feeling back into his tingling butt cheek. He walked further down the hallway, making sure it was the one that would lead to the Great Hall so Draco was guaranteed to pass him at some point. He didn't think pouncing on the blonde Slytherin right outside the Room of Requirement was a good idea, he didn't want Draco to know he finally knew where he was disappearing to. The way the blonde had furtively looked around before entering the room made Colin sure he didn't want anyone to know his whereabouts.

Colin tapped his foot, a tuneless rhythm echoing softly in the deserted hallway as he waited. Another _tempus_ and he muttered a mild curse under his breath. He didn't know how much longer he could wait for Draco. He already missed breakfast and if this kept up, he'd miss lunch too. He glared down the hallway and nearly jumped with an embarrassing squeak when he slammed into Draco as the Slytherin walked around the corner. He fell with a crack, wincing and barely avoiding crying out as he handed harshly on the hard stone flooring.

"Watch where the fuck-" Draco started, a sneer on his face. He pulled up short when he caught sight of Colin sprawled on the floor. He closed his eyes in annoyance and released a heavy sigh. "Creevey," he growled.

"D-Draco," Colin stuttered, shock making him blink owlishly up at the Slytherin for a long moment. As he regained his bearings, his cheeks pinked and he ducked his head, avoiding eye contact.

Draco rolled his eyes and silently thanked Merlin that the Gryffindor kept his eyes averted until he was able to calm himself down, knowing his eyes were glowing and probably fully showing his wolf. He didn't think Colin saw anything damning, but why risk it? He huffed with annoyance and easily picked up the smaller blonde, setting him on his feet and only just able to resist patting Colin down to make sure he wasn't harmed or out of sorts. And just to touch him. "What are you doing lurking about in empty hallways?" he asked, his voice a low growl. He winced, again relieved Colin wasn't looking at him so he didn't witness the move. He needed to eat and get himself down to Severus'; he could feel his wolf snarling and fighting to get free and he didn't know how much longer he would be able to stay in control.

"I was waiting for you," Colin said quietly, glad Draco didn't notice the shiver that worked through his body at the blonde's growled question. Something about the tone shot right to his groin and he had nearly moaned. He peeked up at Draco through his lashes and swallowed audibly when Draco's eyes narrowed at him and he could have sworn he saw them flash a different color (amber? gold?) for a brief moment. The confusion dried up the string of babble he would have uttered and he just gaped up at the Slytherin, cringing slightly and waiting for the older boy to sneer at him.

"Why?" Draco asked quietly.

Colin peeked up at Draco again and shrugged. "I dunno, I just... I thought you'd like some company."

"No," Draco snorted and shook his head once. "I meant why were you waiting for me."

Colin squared his shoulders and lifted his chin defiantly. "That's why. I..." he trailed off, his bravery quickly evaporating when faced with Draco's glare. He was sure until this moment that they'd formed a strange sort of relationship after the _moment_ they shared in the abandoned bathroom. His shoulders slumped and he stared at the floor. "I guess I was stupid," he muttered, barking a harsh, short laugh as he shook his head. Another wild bark of laughter bubbled out of him as he clutched his camera tightly in his hands. He was such a fool. "Aren't you hungry?" he asked, successfully halting another string of babble that wanted to pour out of his mouth when he felt Draco start to push past him.

Draco paused, pursing his lips slightly. He had been ready to (loudly and quite rudely) refuse the annoying Gryffindor and shove past him, actually had a hand on his arm as he started to do just that but his nostrils flared and his head swam, all ideas of leaving the smaller blonde gone like a puff of smoke. His gaze drifted down to where his hand was on Colin's arm and he scowled but didn't remove it. Just touching the smaller blonde brought a strange (though not exactly unpleasant) tingling to throb dully through him, settling mostly in his belly and the back of his head. "Yeah," he muttered, his nose twitching again as he stepped closer. He closed his eyes and forced himself back a step when the urge to bury his nose in Colin's neck overcame him. Confusion overrode anything else as he stared at Colin, unnerved at the reactions he was having. "C'mon," he said shortly. He would be horrified at his lack of proper speaking later, right now he was tired, achy and hungry. He didn't want to think anymore.

Colin didn't wait to be asked twice and hurried after Draco as he quickly stalked towards the Great Hall. He nearly had to run to keep up with the Slytherin's long legged gait. He puffed slightly as he kept up, his camera held steady against his chest as he tried to sneak glances up at Draco. It took a moment to realize they weren't headed to the Great Hall as they passed the massive doors and soon were standing in front of a painting of fruit. Colin stared as Draco reached up and appeared to tickle one of the pears. His eyes widened when he heard giggling and he looked up to see the very corner of Draco's mouth lifted. It was an infectious sound...

"Shut up," Draco muttered, feeling Colin's curious gaze on him. "It's the kitchens. I, in no way, want to be seen with you," he bit out, refusing to take back the harsh words when Colin's head and shoulders drooped slightly. It was true, even if he could have found a nicer way to say it. "C'mon," he said, grabbing Colin's elbow and pulling the Gryffindor into the warm kitchens. He glared at the smaller blonde when he blinked and looked around.

Colin paused to look around the kitchens. "Wow," he breathed, stunned. "I've never been down here before. I didn't even know students could get in here. Wow, I had no idea there were so many house-elves at Hogwarts!" he gushed, his eyes flicking rapidly over the dozens of small beings as they rushed around doing... whatever they did. He couldn't stop his babble this time, or the excited giggle that bubbled up.

"Not many can," Draco grunted. He had only learned the trick to get in by watching Potter; a happy accident he took advantage of frequently. He tried to ignore the Gryffindor and snapped his fingers, getting the attention of one of the passing house-elves. He ordered something for the both of them, his voice clipped and brusque. He glared when the smaller blonde glanced at him and beamed a smile at him. "Fuck," he muttered and rolled his eyes. He stalked to a small table and stretched his legs out. He hated the aches that accompanied his change. His body grew rather quickly in a short time and it _hurt_. It almost hurt more than the actual transformation only because it just lingered for days... Pain potions barely ever helped so he didn't bother taking one anymore. He jumped when Colin tapped his arm. "What?" he hissed in annoyance.

Colin worked not to flinch and just met Draco's scowl with a bland expression. "How are you feeling?" he asked quietly. He couldn't say why but he felt something... off with the Slytherin. His eyes flicked around the blonde's form and his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Draco looked... bigger. He didn't know if he was seeing things (anyone would look bigger next to a house-elf, right?) or not but he didn't voice his question, keeping the observation to himself for now.

"'M fine," Draco muttered and quickly filled his mouth with food in an effort to keep from talking as soon as the house-elf slid numerous filled plates in front of them. He glared at the little elf until it scurried off with a terrified squeak. He grunted when Colin kept asking him questions. He poured them both some pumpkin juice, grunting again when Colin voiced his thanks. Merlin, did the little Gryffindor ever shut up? After awhile, he found himself shaking his head or nodding in answer when Colin asked him things. He felt just this side of content and full, no longer snappish or wanting to wring the younger blonde's neck and it was slightly irritating. "I'm going to be gone the next few days," he blurted out and savagely bit his cheek when he realized what he said. Why the fuck did he say that?

Colin's eyes widened and he sat up straighter. "Huh? Why?" he asked, his eyes roaming Draco's face and whatever parts of him he could see above the table. "Are you alright?" he asked again, his eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion. He knew the Slytherin wouldn't tell him but he was concerned. He could tell something was wrong.

Draco rolled his eyes and cursed. "Yes, I'm fine. I study with Severus," he said shortly. It was annoying, and caused a strange warmth to bloom through him (which was _more_ annoying), that Colin would ask such a thing. He wondered if it was just a lucky guess or if Colin really could sense a problem with him... panic flashed hotly though him at the last thought. He clenched his hands into tight fists under the table, willing the Gryffindor to drop the subject.

"...So?" Colin asked after a long moment, uncomprehending what that had to do with Draco being gone. For a few days at that.

Draco sucked his teeth, bemused to be doing such a thing. "So," he said, elongating the 'o' as he rolled his eyes again. "I'll be having some private tutoring for awhile."

"Oh," Colin muttered, not really understanding but relieved there wasn't a problem with Draco like he had first feared. He didn't even know Professor Snape offered such a thing and shuddered in fear and revulsion. He could only guess Draco had a better relationship with the creepy old Potions master because it was his head of house. He was also quite sure the old greasy bat didn't hover of Draco's shoulder, just waiting with malicious glee for a mistake. It was nerve wracking! "Alright."

Draco snorted, surprised he felt a little humor. "I wasn't asking for permission or anything," he said with a smirk.

"Oh, I know," Colin said and felt his cheeks warm as he dropped his eyes. "I just meant... you know. I was glad to know you're... uhm, you know... alright," he stammered, clenching his hands into tight fists, feeling embarrassed and out of sorts.

Draco's smirk softened into a small smile. He rolled his eyes again, mostly at himself and cleared his throat. He didn't like seeing Colin's cheeks all flushed and pink; it made something inside him squirm in a way that wasn't exactly unpleasant and he refused to acknowledge (or name) it. "Well, I need to go now," he said and stood, hastily downing the rest of his juice.

"Oh, a-alright," Colin stammered, thrown by the abruptness, and stood as well. He awkwardly fiddled with his camera, finally noticing the crack in his lens cap. "So, I guess I'll see you in a couple days..."

Draco shook his head, whether in negation to Colin's words or in bemusement was unclear when he just walked out of the kitchens, giving Colin a brief, tiny smile that barely even lifted the corners of his mouth.

Colin stared after him for a long moment (long after Draco had left the kitchens) confusion warring with the warm feeling he got from the small smile.

What in God's name just happened?

He shook his head and slowly made his way back to Gryffindor tower, his steps oddly light as he ran his finger absently over the crack in his lens cap. He didn't know what just happened but he did know he wanted it to happen again. When Draco wasn't agitated or annoyed, he was surprisingly pleasant company. He sighed wistfully, settling into his favorite chair. He didn't know why but the thought of not seeing the snarky blonde for a few days had him feeling unsettled and uncharacteristically sad.


	8. Simmering lust

Colin felt good. Fantastic even. He grabbed his camera with a small smile and practically strutted to the Great Hall, unmindful (or, more accurately, completely oblivious) that he hadn't even properly dressed that morning. His mind was elsewhere. Between the unseasonable warmth of the day and being completely engrossed in his now-habitual thoughts of one Draco Malfoy _and_ Harry Potter, he plopped onto the bench next to Rachiel with his shirt completely unbuttoned and his tie hanging just around his ears like some bizarre headband. As he carelessly spooned eggs onto his plate next to a small mountain of bacon he finally noticed Rachiel gaping at him from the corner of his eye.

"'Morning," he said brightly around a mouthful of mostly chewed bacon. He unconsciously brushed crumbs from his camera and swung it around to rest against his back. He rolled his eyes at himself; he really wished he would remember to do that _before _he got food on his precious.

Rachiel stared, trying to keep her eyes from straying down and ogling Colin's chest and trim stomach. "Morning," she finally stammered. "Feeling better?" she asked cautiously. She hadn't seen or spoken to Colin in days (except in class and he'd taken to sitting at the other side of the room) and she'd started to become extremely worried. She still wasn't sure why Colin was ignoring her and she felt just a little irritated. She should be angry with him, not the other way 'round.

"Fantastic!" Colin said with a cheeky wink, completely oblivious to the wary look he was getting from his friend, and went back to eating like he hadn't in days. His fork paused on the way to his mouth and he dropped it in a fit of surprise. "Oh! I can't believe I haven't told you..." he trailed off and looked around before scooting closer on the bench. "You'll never believe what I found out about the Golden Trio?" he whispered, his mouth pulled into a smirk.

Rachiel couldn't help leaning in and giving in to her natural curiosity. The last time Colin spoke of the Golden Trio, he'd been speaking in crazy riddles and she couldn't understand much past 'Harry this' and 'Harry that'. "What? I haven't noticed anything odd about them..." she trailed off, sneaking a quick look down the table at the aforementioned group. Ron and Hermione were sitting next to each other, holding hands under the table, and Harry was sitting across from them thoroughly engrossed in eating something that looked like waffles covered in some sort of red fruity jam.

"Oh, but there is," Colin said in a hushed whisper and smirked again before going into quiet fits of cackling giggles, his hand cupped over his mouth to muffle the sound. "They're up to something... a real _hush-hush_ something. Something _big_," he said, his eyes widening dramatically on the last word.

Rachiel stared, a tingle of unease going through her. She'd hoped Colin had gotten over his obsession and... oddness. "Like?"

"I don't know all the details, but," Colin paused and pulled a bundle of shrunken pictures from his pocket and slid them under the table to rest in Rachiel's lap. Since he hadn't forgone his habit of following Harry, he'd gotten all sorts of interesting pictures and overheard a few new things. He didn't quite understand them all but he'd hoped if he confided in Draco, the Slytherin might have some insight. Draco was brilliant like that. "They're _plotting_. Something. Making plans," he said in a hushed whisper, looking around again. "But they can't hide from me," he said proudly, swinging his camera back around and lovingly stroked along the top of it.

Rachiel looked through the pictures, unsure just what she was supposed to see. Most were only of Harry but there were plenty of others showing all three of her fellow Gryffindors. It wasn't odd or unusual in the slightest. They always hung out together or in smaller groups and occasionally with other classmates. Each picture showed the Trio in various stages of conversation, usually with their heads together. In the last one, Ron jumped a bit before looking around guiltily. "I see," she finally said, handing the pictures back. Colin immediately shrunk them and hid them away again.

"You see?" he said, smirking again. "Nothing gets by me. Pictures can't lie, love," he said gravely, truly believing such a thing. "They are the eyes of God, baby!" He grinned and stuffed a piece of bacon in his mouth.

Rachiel flinched and slid away a bit, hoping Colin didn't notice the subtle movement. "So you've said," she muttered, feeling that slick squirm of unease go through her again. She hated when Colin got that manic look in his eye and went on weird tangents about things she couldn't follow or understand. She glanced over again and frowned a bit when she saw him pouring himself another mug of... something. She didn't recognize the beverage and she immediately grew concerned. "Colin, I know you don't want to hear this again," she paused, flinching a bit again when Colin whirled around to glare at her. "But you need to find a way to handle this better. It's not... healthy."

"What? Handle what? What am I doing? There isn't anything to _handle," _Colin said defensively, his back going stiff and a scowl slowly working onto his face. Why couldn't Rachiel _understand_? If he didn't think his friend would take it the wrong way, he'd stomp his foot in aggravation and explain again why this was such an important thing. Not only did he find out something important but he really could find a way to finally win Harry. Probably. He blinked with surprise when 'why not Draco?' whispered through his mind.

Rachiel blinked, unsure what to do or say at his continued attitude. "There is," she insisted, getting a bit angry at Colin's stubbornness. "How many times have I had to help you? Taken you to the infirmary?"

"_Once_," Colin said through his teeth. "Any other time was for... something else." Botched potions blowing up in his face and causing a reaction didn't count. Nor did the occasional trip jinx that sent him to the infirmary.

Rachiel shook her head. "No, I've had to help you there at least three times. Three, Colin!" She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Please, you need to fight this and find something better to do with your time. Something better to waste film on," she tried, hoping the mention of his passion would get her friend to change his mind or see reason.

"Why should I want to fight it? I love feeling like this!" Colin gloated, smirking again. "Look, I don't understand why you doubt I will have the story and I _will_ have Harry."

Rachiel shook her head slowly, running her teeth along her top lip as she tried to think quickly. "No, I don't think that will happen," she said quietly. "You... you don't know what you want, Colin. Sure, the only real consistent thing is Harry Potter, but you go all over the place with how you want him," she hissed, annoyed and pissed off again. Just the mention of Colin wanting Harry in _any_ way was enough to get her irritated and a bit jealous. She really understood why but it was so... unrealistic. Harry never looked at Colin as anything more than a classmate and even then, it was plain to see he only did it because he wasn't the kind of bloke that would ignore someone or be downright rude. She idly wondered how long that would last, dreading the day Colin pushed even Harry's limits.

"I really wish you could understand," Colin finally said, his anger dissipating to leave him a bit depressed. Rachiel was his oldest and closest friend and he wished she would support him. OK, he was a bit daft to expect anything from Harry but he was the kind of bloke that needed a big gesture, something dramatic to drive the point home. Colin bit the inside of his cheek. Of course, Harry rarely looked at him unless he got into his personal space and demanded his attention. Harry didn't talk to him unless he was answering a question Colin surprised him with and he usually looked a bit annoyed or put out to do so. Most weren't terribly personal questions; there wasn't a lot known about the older Gryffindor's history and Colin could rarely contain his curiosity for long. Remembering the horrible incident from a few weeks ago, he glared at Rachiel. "I don't think it's unreasonable to have a goal. It's not like I'm the only one with the goal of being closer to Harry."

Rachiel stomped her foot, briefly annoyed she was sitting so it wasn't really all that impressive. "You need to forget that, Colin. Get over it. Get over him!" she hissed lowly, trying not to make a scene by being shrill or loud. It was getting harder and harder to stay rational in the face of Colin's unrealistic and nearly crazy ideas. Her face softened and she cautiously took his hand, sighing quietly with relief when he didn't jerk his hand away. "I don't mean to be a bitch, really I don't, but I can't bear seeing you like this. Do you have any idea what seeing you like that did to me? I-"

"To _you_?" Colin asked, pulling his hand out of Rachiel's. "What kind of person _are_ you? It happened to _me. _Not you," he pointed out, his face starting to pink with anger. "I don't-" he stopped mid-sentence. Everything (his angry bitter words, his growing irritation with his best friend, even what they'd been fighting about) evaporating from his mind when he spotted a pale blur in his periphery.

Draco was back!

Colin sat up a bit straighter, getting a better look over some second year's head. He couldn't stop the light shiver that worked up his spine. Draco was fully dressed and drool worthy. His pale hair was carelessly pushed back from his face and Colin fought the shiver this time when he noticed the perspiration beading on the Slytherin's forehead and upper lip. He had somehow forgotten it was so hot while talking to Rachiel but it was a shame Draco hadn't forgotten to button his shirt up, too.

Shouldn't it be a crime for one bloke to be so... appealing? Colin didn't know but he couldn't tear his eyes away even if Rachiel was to pinch his arse. He managed to catch the older blonde's eye. He quickly took his chance to give the Slytherin a smile. Malfoy; his mighty but very sweaty prince, he thought with an internal squeal and a giggle. He shrugged when Draco ignored him. He could wait; he was a very patient person.

Draco was a wreck. As much as he pleaded and begged (which made him want to hex himself) Severus to let him stay one more day to recover, he was refused. Deemed fit and competent for classwork once again, Severus sent him on his way with a few potions for lingering pain (not that they did fuck all to help) and a calming draught should he need it. He loosened his tie a bit, sweating lightly and cursing the unnaturally warm day. He was stuck wearing his full uniform and he was already feeling sweat trickle down his back, no matter how many cooling charms he cast on himself. Even if it hadn't been buggering hot today, he'd just gotten over seclusion; he was going to be running hot for another day or so anyway. He unconsciously tugged his left sleeve down, a habit he had gotten into since having the Dark Mark forced onto his pale forearm. Even if he hadn't been told to keep it covered, there was no way he would ever let anyone see it. He hated the ugly thing and cursed his father and the bloody Dark Lord every time he saw it glaring up at him from his forearm.

His gaze, as usual it seemed, gravitated towards the Gryffindor table and he stopped in his tracks. Potter was talking with Katie Bell and it didn't look like a very pleasant conversation. His eyes narrowed then widened a fraction when he was suddenly pierced with an intense green-eyed glare. There wasn't suspicion in those piercing eyes; only a sort of knowing and anger. Panic shot through him (how could they have found out?!) and he backed out of the Great Hall, cursing lowly when Potter suddenly got up. As soon as he cleared the doors, he ran.

Colin watched the whole thing and got up as causally as he could when Harry stood and left, completely ignoring Rachiel. She was probably just going to tell him not to do anything stupid. Blah Blah Blah. As soon as he hit the hallway, he cast a Disillusionment charm and took off, barely able to keep Harry in his line of vision.

Draco ran as fast as he could, ignoring the sweat down pouring down his body and the aches in his legs that wanted to fold up and betray him. He didn't have a direction in mind but he finally noticed he had wound up in the abandoned bathroom. Fan-fucking-tastic, he mentally groaned, realizing he was basically trapped. He paused long enough to listen for footsteps and gave a shuddering sigh when he didn't hear anyone following him. He had never expected to loose Potter; the fucking git never gave up.

He let loose a shuddering breath, his body and mind tired and overrun. He hated this. He hated what his life had become. He felt like a constant fucking failure and he couldn't hold in the broken sob that left his mouth.

He angrily tore off his robes and threw them in the corner, uncaring of the state of the floor or his robes as they landed in a messy heap. He'd suffocate if he had to stand in those robes another second. He tried to bite back the flood of tears again -how many times was he to embarrass himself in front of a fucking ghost?- but he couldn't. Another thing to fail at, he thought miserably. He punched the wall next to the sink; shaking wildly and choking on the angry, desperate tears as he practically howled his frustrations. He slowly managed to calm his breathing and his knees felt like jelly again. He grabbed the edge of the nearest sink and let his head slump between his shoulders. He hated-

"Malfoy."

Draco whirled around, an angry sneer on his face. He snarled as he immediately grabbed his wand and without another thought sent a hex towards Potter. The bastard! The nosy, unrelenting prat! He didn't even care what hex he threw, just whatever would get Potter out of his face. He snarled again when Potter ducked, spun and hurled his own hex at him. He, thankfully, had expected it and dived out of the way just as the sink behind him blasted apart into pieces. He smirked, feeling his blood run hot and excitement bubble through him. This... this was something he wouldn't fail at. And if he did? Well, then at least he would fuck Potter up and give back whatever he got; that was never counted as a failure in Draco's scroll.

"Potter!" he yelled, ducking around a stall door and letting curses and hexes fly and hoped one would get the Gryffindor.

Harry ducked, panting hard and wiping dirt and water drops off of his glasses. "For fuck's sake, I just wanted to talk, Malfoy!" he yelled over the loud noises of bathroom fixtures exploding and hexes whizzing by his head. He grit his teeth when Malfoy only cackled and fired another hex right next to the place his head had been a moment before. "For the love of..." he swore and rolled, crawling across the floor until he was close enough to Malfoy. Without a sound he launched himself at the blonde, tackling him, wrapping his arms around his thighs and putting all his weight into his shoulder.

Draco howled, kicking and thrashing as soon as he landed on the floor. Luckily, he hadn't been gotten all the air knocked out of him or he knew Potter would have had him at a distinct disadvantage. He thrashed again, completely unsure how to fight without a wand but swinging wildly. He got a lucky shot and his fist connected with Potter's jaw. A bright flair of pain shot up his arm but he ignored it, twisting his body and somehow managing to land on top of Potter, pinning his arms down to his sides with his knees. He smirked down, even though he was breathing heavily, thoroughly enjoying the look of panic on Potter's face. "We don't _talk_, Potter," he ground out.

"I know but," Harry said, winded and his head a bit fuzzy from the punch. He didn't think Malfoy knew how to fight like a Muggle. He blinked, feeling dazed still. "I know you're up to something." He winced, flinching when Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously and darken. He blinked when amber bleeds into the grey for a moment. He probably should have kept that to himself. He tried to buck his hips and get Malfoy off of him but he only succeeded in having Malfoy sit higher and he breathed a muted '_oomph_' when the blonde settled heavily on his chest, knocking the air out of him.

Draco let more of his weight settle down onto Potter, hoping to Merlin he was cutting off the bastard's air. "Do you now? And what am I up to?" he asked lowly, letting his hands settle around Potter's throat. Another burst of vicious glee went through him as the panic turned to fear. He had never seen real fear in those green eyes before and it was... exhilarating. He smirked smugly, wondering if even Old Snake Face had seen such a thing.

"I don't know," Harry whispered, his throat being slowly constricted by Malfoy's hands. He honestly couldn't tell if the blonde even realized he was doing it. He tried to buck and twist but it only caused the hands to tighten.

Draco leaned down even more. "You don't _know_? Yet you follow me. You fucking stalk me. You get in my face every fucking day!" he hissed, flicking his eyes down for a moment to looking in fascination as his fingers dig into Potter's soft, pale flesh and left angry red marks.

"No," Harry said hoarsely, trying to shake his head but he's being held too tightly. Little black dots are swirling through his vision and he tries to buck Malfoy off of him again but he was dizzy and his limbs felt disconnected. He hadn't approached Draco since the school year but he couldn't argue with the other points.

Draco lifted his hands sharply, smacking Potter's head sharply against the tiles. "You have!" he yelled. "You need to stop. There's nothing you can do to stop me and you'll live a lot longer if you leave it alone," he said, leaning down to whisper threateningly in Potter's ear. He leaned back up and smirked as Potter tried to nod. He tightened his hands a bit more, his smirk growing then Potter's eyes widened and he tried to thrash a bit. It was weak and he absently wondered if the Gryffindor would pass out or just fucking stop breathing. He didn't want to kill him but he was so tired of having to look over his shoulder. Tired of failing and tired of fighting. He, reluctantly, realized the neck he really wanted to snap was not between his fingers and probably never would be. He slowly loosened his hands a bit, chuckling unkindly when Potter gasped a breath in and stared up at him wide eyed. "You're going to stop and..." he trailed off, pretending to think. "You're going to beg me."

"For what?" Harry gasped out, trying to get air into his body. He never thought he would be in this position and it unsettled him. Of all the things he ever thought about Malfoy, the fact that blonde was capable of trying to choke him to death never went into the equations. He never thought the Slytherin was capable.

"Why, your life, Potter," Draco said, almost sounding like he was speaking to a very slow five-year-old. "Such as it is," he sneered.

Harry blinked, trying to feel grateful that the black spots had vanished from his vision. He stared up at Malfoy and saw no room for debate or talking. "Please, don't kill me," he said quietly. He wasn't sure if he cared or not but he didn't think it could happen before he finished his 'fated task'. He had, up until this point, thought himself protected in a way. No one but one man could kill him. Now? He wasn't so sure. His indifference to the situation was a bit scary but he didn't care to analyze it now.

Draco stared down and wanted to pout and slam Potter's head into the tiles again. He didn't see passion or real begging. No fire and conviction. Potter was now only laying there saying what he wanted to hear and it was infuriating. Did the bastard really not care? Did he not believe he could go through with it and actually choke him? If he hadn't seen the real fear and panic, he'd almost believe that. "A bit more feeling, please," he said haughtily.

"Please," Harry said, barely restraining the urge to roll his eyes. How this situation got so fucking surreal he would never know. "Please, spare my life."

Draco didn't restrain the urge and rolled his eyes, his hands loosening more. None of his earlier thoughts came out of his mouth, thank Merlin. "Stay the fuck away from me," he hissed and stood quickly, hoping Potter was still dazed from the lack of oxygen to his brain and wasn't going to leap up and attack him. He stared for a moment as Potter just laid there, breathing heavily with his eyes closed. He sneered, aimed a swift kick to his ribs and walked out as he tucked his wand up his sleeve.

He stalked down the hallway, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. Any elation at having Potter under his hands and at his mercy crumbled. How the _fuck_ did Potter, of all people, manage to continually and unerringly follow him? Did Potter know what he was doing or only guessing? His Dark Mark and impure blood status obviously weren't known or it'd probably be through the entire school by now. He'd been so sure he'd covered everything, going about unnoticed, successfully sneaking through the castle unseen. He sneered, angry at himself almost as much as he was at Potter. He nearly collided with Colin again. "What the fuck?" he yelled, anger swelling hotly through him.

Colin bounced off Draco's chest, squawking with surprise as he fell to the ground. As he looked up, he gulped as he stared up at a livid Draco Malfoy. Well, shit. He really needed to stop meeting the Slytherin this way.

"What are you doing here?" Draco demanded, fingering the wand up his sleeve as he stepped toward Colin. He easily and maliciously used his height to his advantage, towering over the younger blonde and momentarily enjoying the wide brown eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. "Why are you _always_ turning up when I least expect it? Why always with Potter?" he hissed, his silvery eyes narrowed dangerously, amber flickering through them like a lightning strike.

Colin gaped, unsure what to say. Did Draco think... "What?" he asked dumbly.

"You filthy little mud-blood," Draco sneered, stepping closer and crowding Colin. He didn't bother to register the hurt that flashed across Colin's face. He steadfastly ignored it, furious. "Did you tell Potter?" he asked lowly, sliding his wand out from his sleeve and pressing it into Colin's throat.

Colin's eyes tear, against his wishes but he straightened his back as he glared up at Draco defiantly. "No! I would never do that!" he said, shaking his head. "I would _never_ do that," he repeated, his face darkened with anger. "How dare you? How could you even think I'd do that?" he yelled, poking the blonde in the chest and dimly noting the look of surprise. "I fucking care about you, you bloody arse!" he huffed, shoving ineffectually at Draco's chest. "Like Harry Potter would even _listen_ to me. Fuck!" he screamed, clutching at his hair and yanking harshly. "I follow him, OK? I don't know how he always finds you and I don't care. I only want to help," he said softly, his last words ending in a squeak when he was roughly pushed. He grunted, landing against the stone wall with a dull smack. His head gave a sick throb and he whimpered as he watched Draco sneer down at him with his wand up and pointed steadily at his chest.

"Why the fuck should I believe you?" Draco asked quietly. He slowly realized he had Colin pinned against the wall and he starting to find it hard to concentrate. A hot flair of pain in his groin had him dropping his wand and reflexively curling into a ball, barely biting back a moaning cry of pain.

Colin scrambled away, his eyes wide as he stared -nearly disbelieving that a knee to the balls would be _that_ effective. "Fine. Don't believe me, Malfoy," he spat angrily, backing away and keeping a close eye on the writhing blonde. "Won't matter if I tell the whole school about you, now will it?" he whispered, turning and running.

"No!" Draco huffed, trying to get air into his lungs. His crotch was throbbing sickly with each heartbeat and he felt like he was going to vomit each time he moved. "Please," he whispered, unable to speak louder. He managed to get his wand and cast the first healing spell he could think of. He got to his feet, shakily, and took off after Colin, stumbling a bit the first few steps. He caught up with the Gryffindor easily and aimed a trip jinx at him, amazed it worked when Colin's arms pin-wheeled and he fell to the stone floor with a shriek of surprise, landing with a painful sounding grunt.

Colin looked behind him and tried to scramble up to his feet but they wouldn't cooperate. "Fuck," he whimpered, trying to hop but easily caught by Draco. He flinched when Draco grabbed him around his waist and threw him against the wall, again, like he was a rag doll. He was _this close_ to crying and whimpering, begging not to be killed when he felt a warm hand brush his cheek.

"I'm sorry," Draco whispered, fighting a smirk when Colin flinched before staring up at him wide-eyed with stunned disbelief. "You heard me. I assumed the wrong thing and..." he trailed off, unsure how thick to spread the bullshit. He watched, horrified, as Colin's eyes flicked to his left arm. Dread crawled sickly though him and he'd almost prefer another kick in the balls than that kind of knowledge in Colin's eyes. He'd assumed wrong, so wrong. Colin hadn't a clue he was a monster... well, the furry kind, anyway.

Colin stared, his brain stuttering madly, trying to catch up. He saw panic and fear flit through Draco's eyes when he couldn't stop himself from looking where the Dark Mark was. Surprise as well. What else did Draco have to hide then? What else would he dread the school knowing about? "I was only kidding, Draco," he said quietly. "I was angry and hurt. I wouldn't really tell. Honest. Who'd believe me?" he said, trying not to sound as dejected as he felt. No one listened to him, not even his best friend.

"Potter," Draco hissed in answer, rolling his eyes.

Colin shook his head, his hair whipping around his face. He thought Harry _might_, if he had solid proof and more than five seconds to talk to him, but Granger or Weasley always talked the other wizard around to their way of thinking. And they thought Colin was a nut-ball to be ignored at all costs. "No, he wouldn't. And even if he would, I wouldn't tell him that," he said earnestly. He would have but that was his last plan. His new plan didn't involve Harry knowing Draco had the Dark Mark.

"Fuck," Draco hissed, resisting the urge to hit something, but only just barely. He pressed closer to Colin, an idea forming in his mind when Colin's breath hitched, his tongue darted out to lick his lips and his brown eyes widened as they dilated. Holy shit; jackpot. He smirked and pressed closer, leading with his hips this time. His smirk widened when Colin moaned softly, biting his lip too late to keep the sound in. He slowly worked his hands down the buttons of Colin's school shirt, deftly undoing the buttons before undoing his own. He barely contained a triumphant cackle when Colin shuddered violently at the contact. "Please, don't, Colin. I'm sorry. You're my friend right?" Colin's head nodded spastically. "I need you," he whispered, his lips ghostly across Colin's ear. It took monumental effort not to lose his head in the heady scent. He used his growing arousal to his advantage and shifted against the pinned Gryffindor. "I need you to do this one thing for me."

Colin shuddered again, his pants growing painfully tight and he whined, low in his throat as his hands fluttered up to touch any part of Draco he could. He groaned with pleasured surprise when Draco allowed his hands to slide along his pale chest, his fingers bouncing a bit with the bumps and ridges of his muscles. As much as he wanted to, he didn't dare touch the pebbled, pink nipples. He whimpered when Draco's mouth latched on to his. His brain fried, went to complete mush, leaked out of his ears when Draco's hot mouth moved to latch onto his neck, teeth lightly grazing. He just went limp, completely submitting to any and everything Draco wanted. He whimpered again when the other blonde pulled away, his body strung tight and just needing only a little more stimulation before he exploded. "Draco," he whispered, his hands behind the blonde's neck and trying to pull him back down. His fingers fluttered against damp skin and soft hair. "You're so sweaty," he said, feeling completely stupid and ridiculous. He gasped, arching with a nearly pained cry when Draco's body slammed against his again.

"Please, Colin," Draco whispered, leaning down to nip at the pale neck, bent back submissively and wide open for whatever he wanted to do. It brought a heady rush that nearly had him voicing a genuine moan. "Don't tell anyone, please. I need... it has to stay a secret. I'll be so good to you," he whispered, nearly rolling his eyes at the words. He wasn't surprised when Colin's eyes rolled back, completely believing every word.

Colin couldn't answer, his body thrumming with electric sparks of pleasure. He nodded instead, his head wobbling and bobbing crazily, and he might have grunted unintelligibly. "Yes. I mean, no I won't," he managed after a long moment. He barely registered Draco's grunt as his body moved against his again, forceful and with a purpose again. Just as he was about to come in his pants (embarrassment be damned; it felt too fucking good to care) Draco stepped away from him, leaving him painfully turned on and suddenly cold. He blinked stupidly, his dick a painful throb in his pants and he glared. "Huh?" he mumbled, when he could speak.

"Thanks," Draco muttered, winked and then sauntered away, trying not to look back. A sudden mental image flashing through his mind of the circle of masked, cloaked followers was the only way he had been able to crush the raging hormones coursing, quite unwanted, through his body so he could pull away at such an intense moment. He felt a little bad for leaving the Gryffindor in such a state... but it was needed.

He very nearly bit that fucking Gryffindor in a wild fit of uncontrolled pleasure (even if he had been faking at first, it hadn't ended that way) and it wouldn't have been a good idea; not when he was turned on. Not this close to the full moon, even the waning moon. He shivered, the urge to turn back around and finish what he had started nearly impossible to ignore. Only years of training and self control kept him walking, kept him from looking back, kept him from uttering a genuine apology. He headed down to the dungeons.

And maybe, for the first time in weeks, he was tired enough to sleep undisturbed.


	9. Narcissa - Prophecy of the wolf

Narcissa stood alone, trying not to notice the small, Muggle home around her as a few silent, unnoticed tears ran down her pale face. She'd had to finally flee the Manor; it was no longer her home, if it ever was. Her sister could be heard at all hours, her insane cackles and simpering sycophantic words echoing the halls. Narcissa absently wiped the tears from her face, snorting inelegantly. Her sister was insane. Among many reasons, but the most damning in Narcissa's view was to believe that any wizard would truly be that powerful. Even having the nerve to call him invincible or immortal. A spike of pained regret went through her; she used to be so close to Bellatrix. She couldn't even pinpoint the moment her sister lost her grip on sanity but she knew it had everything to do with the Dark Lord and her sister's near obsessive servitude for him.

She doesn't understand how she was alone in understanding the truth; the Dark Lord was weak. Riddled with insecurity and paranoia; constantly losing sight of his self-appointed goals to run fool's errands and ridiculous –and failing- vendettas. He was destined to be destroyed by a child for Merlin's sake. A half-blooded one at that. He was anything but powerful or immortal.

Another dainty snort left her and she shook her head a bit, a small, wry smile on her face. Why are men the same? Muggle or wizard, they give themselves far too much credit and boast about power they do not possess. It was probably ironic the Dark Lord was no better, falling to the same traps and perils like any other man. It tickled her dark sense of humor to think the Dark Lord no better than a Muggle man.

Sad and pathetic.

Of course, as much as she believed -no, _knew_- this to be true, she dared not share such opinions. Her husband was the Dark Lords second, her son fated to follow both wizards. That it would be to his own doom filled her with a nearly crippling rage. Her fists clench tightly, the small knuckles turning white. She refused to allow her precious boy to befall the same fate as the other spineless followers. Not only did he not want it, she refused to allow it. Her beautiful boy wouldn't be sullied by those men and their beliefs. Her back straightened, almost painfully and she reaffirmed herself in her convictions.

She knew the foolish old Headmaster believed the Potter boy above death –or at least protected for a time—because his mother sacrificed herself for him. While she'd never belittle a mother's love for their child, she felt it impossible that Lily Potter felt more love for her son than she did for her Draco. It had to be impossible. Narcissa lived for her Dragon. His birth occurred in this same house. It might seem boorish to some, but to her thinking it just proved how much she loved her son. She'd birthed him without any magical aid, in a small, Muggle house. She looked around the small house again, memories assaulting her with vivid clarity. She hadn't meant to be anywhere near this place but she'd been sent on a mission by the Dark Lord, unconcerned she would be going into labor soon. What did the Dark Lord care of her or her son's needs? He had a world to conquer after all, she thought with a sneer of disdain.

By the time she'd realized her pains were not 'false alarms', she'd panicked and knocked on the nearest door –uncaring in her current state that she was in a well-known Muggle neighborhood. Hoping all that she knew of Muggles was exaggerated and she -or her baby- wouldn't be harmed. She'd actually cried with relief when the door was opened after the second knocking and the young woman that answered immediately ushered her inside, her eyes wide and focused on her large belly. The poor woman was half-asleep but thought quickly on her feet having much experience in doing so.

"I'm a nurse," the Muggle said, gently pushing the heavily pregnant Narcissa into a chair. She looked the woman over and tsk-ed softly, her trained eyes recognizing a woman progressing steadily into labor. "Are you alright with me helping you?" she asked, finally taking in the woman's panicked face and hunched shoulders. She couldn't understand why there was fear and tried her best to gentle her tone. If she was right, the woman didn't have time to seek out other aide.

Narcissa nodded, too overcome to speak yet. Everything hurt and her only concern was for her son. Her hands were wrapped around her belly, wincing when it hardened with another contraction. She nearly whimpered; she longed for a pain potion. "Yes, please," she finally whispered. A shocked smile crossed her face when the Muggle nurse clasped her hand with a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Fear was still present, the very idea of having her son without the aid of healers in a small Muggle home was frightening.

"Alright, you're probably not too far off from having your babe, so we're probably going to have to work fast," the nurse chuckled, her eyes on Narcissa's still rigid form. "I'll be right back, I need some supplies," she said and hurried off before Narcissa could say anything else. It'd been awhile since she'd done a home birth, but she knew what was needed.

Narcissa stared at the doorway the Muggle went through with panicked eyes. She hadn't a clue what to do! Oh, how she wished she'd been around wizards. They could wave a wand and conjure whatever they needed or floo her to St. Mungo's. Panic speared through her again when everything stiffened and pain lanced through her again. "Oh," she huffed, trying to remain stoic and unaffected. Sometimes, like now, she loathed being a pure-blood. She'd rather scream and rant, huff and puff. A relieved sigh noisily escaped her when the Muggle woman rushed back in.

"Alright, we're ready, I think," she muttered to herself, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. With an apologetic smile she checked the woman and her eyes widened when she realized how far along the poor woman was. What was she doing wandering around in the middle of the night in advanced labor? One glance up at the pale blue eyes and she didn't bother asking. It wasn't her business. She focused on helping the woman breathe, another surprise that she'd been completely shocked when she'd coached her but she'd finally done the same and the surprised relief on her face was almost comical.

Surprisingly, it wasn't too much longer before she was carefully cleaning and cradling a newborn little boy. "It's a boy," she said proudly, carefully handing the bundle to the exhausted woman once she'd cleaned the baby as best she could.

"My Dragon," Narcissa whispered, running a finger down one pink cheek. She looked up when she realized the nurse was speaking to her, a faint embarrassed blush on her cheeks. She couldn't help being so enamored with her son but the Muggle didn't look in the least offended; instead a soft smile was on her face. "I'm sorry, please repeat that."

"I only said I've called an ambulance. It'll be here shortly."

Narcissa tried not to look as confused as she felt. She instinctively tightened her arms a bit around her son. "I'm sorry?" she whispered, unsure.

"An ambulance? To take you both to the hospital," the Muggle clarified, wondering at the strange reaction. "Better safe than sorry, you know? Everything went really well but," she shrugged. She didn't want to worry the woman with too many 'what if's'.

Narcissa relaxed a bit, finally understanding what the muggle meant. An ambulance must be like the floo. "Alright, thank you," she said softly, her eyes sincere. Not even the thought of going to a Muggle hospital panicked her at the moment. She was too tired and too blissed out holding her son to worry about that at the moment.

"You're welcome," the Muggle smiled and cautiously sat on the arm of the sofa, relaxing when the woman didn't tense or shout at her and looked down at the beautiful little boy. She wanted to caress the pink, chubby cheek or run it through the soft pale blonde hair but she didn't. "So, did you have a name picked out?"

Narcissa smiled softly and looked down as well. "Draco," she said quietly, unwilling to say more. While it was nearly impossible for this Muggle to recognize the last name 'Malfoy', she wasn't foolish enough to risk it.

"Like the constellation?"

"Yes, exactly," Narcissa said, her voice mixed with surprise and pleasure. Maybe Muggles weren't the mindless animals she'd been told they were. An unnatural shriek startled her and her head flew up as an old woman rushed into the room. The old woman wore a long sleep dress with large, the colorful flowers on it assaulting the eye and her silver hair was wild around a wrinkled face. Again, she tightened her hold on her Draco as her eyes glared distrustfully at the old woman.

"Nanna!" the Muggle cried, rising from the chair quickly and rushing over to the old woman as she weaved and wobbled into the room. "You should be sleeping," she said softly, trying to lead her grandmother back to her room. She sent a quick, apologetic smile to the woman protectively holding her baby. Most days, her grandmother was quite calm and easy going, her memory would come and go but it wasn't hard to handle. Her brows pinched when she felt resistance. Strong resistance. She looked up to find her grandmother staring intently at the woman and her baby, her eyes a bit glazed and eerily vacant. "Nanna?"

The old woman somehow pushed the young woman off of her and stumbled across the room, a hand outstretched towards Narcissa. A bony finger slowly extended and pointed at the still sleeping baby. "He'll be strong! A mighty Dragon," she shrieked, waving her free arm wildly. Her eyes gleamed unnaturally as they roamed over the sleeping baby. "With a loyal lion at his side," she whispered in a hushed tone, her head cocked to one side as if in confusion. "A champion to save you all," she ended in a guttural whisper, her milky eyes pinned on Narcissa's pale, shocked blue ones.

"What?" Narcissa whispered, her arms tight around Draco, fear and confusion making her shrink back in the sofa she sat on. Muggle or not, the old woman's words filled her with dread and she feared a Prophecy being made. "I don't understand."

The old woman blinked a few times before a loud, piercing scream went through the room. "Oh god! He's here!" she shrieked, her hands clawing at her cheeks, before crumpling to the floor and going still.

Before anyone could react the front door of the small house blew open, the wood splintering and the shards blowing into the room in a blur of unnatural wind and wood. A loud scream was heard and Narcissa glanced from the destroyed doorway to see the Muggle woman staggering around, numerous sharp pieces of wood sticking out of her body. Narcissa stared with shocked horror as blood ran freely from each wound, large rivulets of crimson appearing as if by magic. She winced as the poor woman shrieked with pain, her hands clasped over her ruined eyes.

Narcissa eyes slowly slid back to the door and it was all she could do to not scream or cringe in fear when she saw Voldemort step into the house, his red eyes cold and nearly glowing with insane fury as he looked around the small room before stopping on her, pinning her like a bug.

"I send you on an important task and what is this? I find you sitting and having tea with Muggles?" Voldemort asked, his voice cold and low. It was obvious no such thing was occurring, but he had to spend time to seek out one of his followers and it enraged him. He'd thought the woman trustworthy.

Narcissa involuntarily shivered, the voice sounding too much like a howling wind through a graveyard. "N-no," she whispered before looking up at him. She wanted to snarl defiantly but was well aware it would be the last thing she or her son ever did. "I'm sorry, My Lord, I went into labor-"

"Enough!" Voldemort hissed, uncaring of excuses. Leave it to a woman to be sidetracked by their bodies when least convenient. He sneered, his top lip lifting viciously as he pointed his wand at the whimpering, bloody mess of a Muggle on the floor. A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth when the skin neatly peeled off her body in thin strips, landing in a wet pile next to Narcissa. A high-pitched, sadistically delighted titter came from the Dark Lord as he watched the Muggle writhe and scream out in pain, her voice slowly becoming shattered and hoarse. He tapped his chin with his wand, pausing a few moments before aiming another curse at the Muggle.

Narcissa looked away, closing her eyes tightly and bringing her child up against her in a vain attempt to block his sight and hearing from the scene. She wished she could render them both deaf at the moment, the Dark Lord's laughter, amused sounds and tortured sounds from the woman almost too much to take.

His wand switched to aim at the old woman, a painful stinging hex hitting her on the back. A moue of disappointment marred his face when nothing happened. He shrugged carelessly and went back to the younger woman until there was no more movement and he cast the killing curse with a nearly bored flick of his wrist. "Come," he said to Narcissa, turning and leaving. He didn't bother looking back, he knew she'd be following.

Luckily for Narcissa, Voldemort didn't deign to look at her or he would have seen the loathing on her face. Her eyes prickled mercilessly but she refused to let the tears fall. Tears of reluctant gratitude for sparing her and her son their lives. Tears of hatred and loathing. Tears, oddly enough, for the poor Muggles that only died this night for helping her in her time of need. She held Draco close to her, her eyes eventually dropping to the ground as she followed the Dark Lord.

One day... she vowed, looking at her son's peaceful, perfectly pink face. One day, she would be the one to still the Dark Lord's heart. Once and for all. She hadn't a clue how she'd manage it, but she would. It was, she knew, the only way to save her son from a similar fate as herself and her husband.

Narcissa blinked, slamming back into the present as she looked around the small house again. "Mutton," she said quietly, the pop of the elf's arrival sounding in the small house moments later. She greeted the loyal house elf with a small, pained smile, both relieved and terrified to see a large package nearly weighing the small creature down. She forced herself to not hesitate and approached the elf and the package, wincing a bit at the heavy, nearly cloying thrum of dark magic radiating from it. Another smile crawled onto her face, this one a bit less pained as well as triumphant. Soon, her family will be free. She stared at the package, hearing darkly whispered thoughts and it beckoning to her. "Mutton, take that to Hogwarts. You know where it goes?" she asked, pleased when the elf nodded, its big ears flopping. "Return to me only when you've completed your task." Another hectic round of nodding from Mutton and the elf was gone with a muted pop.

She dispassionately watched the elf pop away, willing herself not to fidget or check the time as she waited for it to return. Less than two minutes later, Mutton popped back into the house, bowing lowly and blinking up at her with pleasure clear on his face.

"Mutton hided the package like Mistress said. Mutton did it," he said, wringing his little hands waiting for praise or punishment.

"Thank you, Mutton," Narcissa said quietly, trying to ignore the way the elf's eyes widened nearly comically at her gratitude. She'd never thanked a house elf before and she only did it now because she could admit she felt guilty and a bit of remorse. Mutton had been her personal house elf since she was 15 and she felt a dull ache at the memory. "And I'm sorry," she said just as quietly. Before the elf could react, she leveled her wand and whispered, "Avada Kadavra." She closed her eyes, unwilling to watch the loyal house elf's fall to the dirty floor, the light gone from his large green eyes.

Sparring one last glance at the small body on the floor, she cast an _Incendio_ and left the small house, barely feeling the flame lick her back as she walked away. There was much to do before she would be done. She pulled out a locket, flicking it open and staring down at the small moving picture inside. She traced the image of fine blonde hair and gently kissed her fingertip before placing it back on the photo, tears again coursing down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry. Forgive me, my darling," she breathed, snapping the locket closed and holding it for long moments. One day... one day she hoped her Draco would be able to forgive her.


	10. Nightmare of passion

_(A/N: Heads up for a little slashy smut..__.)_

Draco glared at the cabinet, a pale hand absently stoking along the smooth wood. Irritatingly, his thoughts were back on the annoying Gryffindor, Creevey. A disgusted noise escaped him as he whirled away from the cabinet. He might as well stop for the night, he had learned the hard way that once he got thinking about Colin fucking Creevey, he thought of little else and he would get nothing done. It was annoying how much he found himself unbothered by the younger blonde's presence, almost going so far as to... enjoy it.

Well, fuck.

He huffed irritably and ran an agitated hand through his hair, not giving a shit he had mussed the pale strands. One final look over the cabinet and he grunted with frustrated annoyance. It wasn't done but he was _so close_, he could feel it. He was that much closer to the final stage and that much closer to being completely and utterly fucked by the Dark Lord. Not properly, he thought with a shudder, but he might as well be. He had no desire to follow Old Snake Face but a Malfoy did not go against family and since his family followed the insane old git, he was stuck. Throwing a sheet over the cabinet, he left the Room and started the long trip back to his dorm, feeling a bit annoyed and agitated still. He paused outside of his door momentarily, his head cocked slightly as he felt a foreign pulse of magic even through the heavy wood. He slowly opened his door and looked in cautiously, peering around the thick wood.

The oppressively heavy aura of foreign magic was coming from his bed.

Cautiously, he stepped into the room, seeing a wrapped package. He doesn't need to take out his wand to search for curses; he could feel dark magic practically oozing off of the damn thing. Even before he stepped inside his room. He eyed the box apprehensively, unsure where it came from. Was it from the Dark Lord? Another fucking task? Still wary, something pulled him closer and he stepped towards it, a hand unconsciously outstretched. As he got closer he recognized his mother's elegant penmanship on the wrapping and he relaxed a bit, stepping closer and approaching the item. He poked at it with his wand. When nothing happened he carefully pulled the wrapping off and opened the box. He stared blankly inside, his brows drawing together as he looked at the contents.

His brows scrunched with confusion when he looked down and only saw a box of broken, jagged shards. It appeared to be black glass, the edges looking sinisterly sharp and jagged. Had his mother sent something and foolishly forgot to charm it unbreakable? It made no sense and he was even more confused. His gaze focused sharply on a small scroll lying in the shards and tied with a blood red ribbon. He hesitated only briefly before slowly pulling the scroll from the box (keeping his fingers clear of the glass) and the ribbon fell away without him even touching it. He cautiously unrolled it and read the single line.

_'Time changes everything_.'

He scowled, confused at the cryptic words. What the fuck did _that_ mean? He turned the scroll over, his scowl deepened when he noted it was blank. He glanced down into the box, curiosity drawing his hand down into the box again. He jerked his hand back with a pained hiss, staring at the blood welling up from his sliced index finger with stupid curiosity. He hadn't even _tried_ to be careful, just jammed his hand in there like he needed to cut himself. He blinked a few times before the fact that he'd cut himself sunk in, quite badly if the amount of blood dribbling down his wrist was any indicator, and stuck the finger in his mouth with a unconscious move.

With a disgusted sigh, he wiped his finger off and stuffed the scroll back into the box, intent on shoving the whole thing under his bed. He bent over to do just that and wobbled a bit as a wave of dizziness overcame him. "What the-" he mumbled, his eyes rolling back to show only the whites, before falling to the floor, unconscious.

_Draco smoothed a hand down a pale chest, tweaking a pebbled, dusty pink nipple almost harshly, grinning at the half-pained half-pleasured moan it brought. He shifted his hips sharply, grinding himself into the willing body he was clutching to his chest, and was rewarded with another moan. A needy, guttural moan. He grunted as he bent the other boy over, unceremoniously shoving him, face-first, onto the bed. He pounced, landing heavily atop the pinned boy and again grinded his hips into the now naked pale, round cheeks, sliding deliciously between the firm flesh and bringing out another moan -from both of them that time._

_"Draco." The voice was high pitched and needy and he nearly purred with contentment and pride, smug he'd caused that reaction. Instead, he ran a hand down a slick back, his fingers fluttering along the ridges of a spine.  
_

_He leaned forward and nipped sharply at the slender, pale neck, not even bothering to brush the blonde strands out of the way. A gasping moan was his prize and he growled softly, pinning the slightly smaller body down. A soft whimper and there was submission. He growled with pleasure and grinned again, furiously working open the small opening he had haphazardly slicked. As much as he wanted to have the other boy enjoy this, he hadn't the patience to be gentle. He could already feel his wolf howling and clawing with the need to_ _**claim, mate, own**. His fingers twist and wiggle quickly, a symphony of moans, gasps and whimpers driving him to work even quicker. "Mine," he growled lowly, twisting his fingers free with a slick, erotic sound and swiftly impaled the smaller body in a near-brutal thrust._

_"Draco!"_

_He grinned, more than pleased any other words were cut off. All he could hear were grunts, groans and moans; each one thrilling him and making him want to sink his claws and teeth into pale, perfect flesh. The only real coherent words the other boy could make were guttural and almost hard to understand, but he got the gist; harder, more, faster, _yours_. It was whimpered, quiet with honestly and truth and it had him throwing his head back and growling again. He bent over to protectively and possessively cover the smaller body as he thrust in quick, hard thrusts. He closed his slightly elongated teeth over the back of the pale, sweaty neck again and bit. Hard. This was no gentle nibbling or nipping. Breaking the skin, he moaned as the coppery taste filled his mouth. He leaned up slightly, without breaking his rhythm, and eyed the mark with fierce pleasure and pride. It was deep and already he felt the connection flicker between them. "Mine," he grunted, his voice a low, throaty growl. He licked the still oozing bite, relishing the taste and scent of what was _his_._

_"Oh gods, fuck! Yes! Yours..." The words dying in a long, guttural moan as pale hands scrabble blindly and clench in the blankets._

_He growled louder in response. Damn right, _mine_. He shoved and repositioned, firmly gabbing pale hips and raising the perfect arse up and shoving the pretty face further into the pillows. The boy shifted with eager willingness, his head turning a with submissive whimper. He grunted and rutted, claiming and thrusting, making the smaller body thrash and twitch with pleasure-pain as he roughly claimed. He didn't bother stroking the leaking cock, fulling intending to claim and please with himself alone. He leaned up, one hand roughly pushing down on the damp, pale lower back, the other sliding up to firmly cup and hold a slim, pale neck. He heard a throaty howl just before he was squeezed with exquisite, rhythmic pressure. He smirked and remembered that angle. That spot. He aimed for it, intent on stabbing it repeatedly and reducing the smaller boy into a whimpering pile of need._

_"Please, Draco... oh gods, I need-" Any further words were lost to more groans, pants and moans. It was wonderful for so many reasons.  
_

_He felt the smaller body clench tightly and he growled with pleasure and pride when he smelled his mate's release. He howled out his own orgasm as he felt the contractions and twitching body clench almost painfully around him. He didn't stop thrusting, grunting and moving; continuing through their mutual orgasms, his hips stuttering as he filled the pliant body now pinned under him. He was not sure when he collapsed and he didn't really care. He didn't hear any protests, even though he _must_ be squishing the smaller man, so he just laid for a moment, catching his breath. He slowly and carefully rolled off, his eyes flicking down to catch the arousing sight of his seed oozing from his mate. He moaned softly and looked away, feeling too damn tired and sated to get worked up again, and drew the smaller boy close, nuzzling his neck in a rare moment of tenderness. He gently licked the bite-mark, humming lowly with contentment and happiness. "Are you alright, Colin?" he whispered. He had warned him it would be rather... brutal, but he still felt a bit bad for how easily he lost control, letting his wolf control their mating almost from the start. He hadn't really been able to fight once he caught Colin's scent; heavy with arousal and _wanting_._

_Colin smelled good enough to eat... and mate again but thankfully he was too damn tired. He barely had the energy to blink, let along flip the Gryffindor onto his belly for another go. It wasn't normal and he could only guess it was more draining because of the whole 'biting/claiming' part. He tightened his arms and nuzzled against the pale, soft column of skin again. _

_"Yeah," Colin breathed and sighed with utter contentment. He shifted until he was sprawled out on top of Draco's chest, his body pillowed by firm-soft muscles and cradled in strong arms. He winced a little when he moved; the fresh bite on his neck zinged with pain, meeting up with the dull (but oddly pleasant) throb in his arse and lower back. "I'm OK," he said, meaning it. He was still blissed out from his orgasm, but he didn't actually _hurt_ anywhere. He was sure his arse will be a different story by the morning, though. Draco hadn't held back and he was still twitching and tingling in odd places. Not that he was complaining... He was surprisingly at a loss for words at the moment; which was probably good, because on a good day Draco couldn't stand his babbling._

_Draco smoothed a hand down Colin's nude back and sighed. He was truly torn as his earlier thoughts rushed back now that the haze of lust and mating was gone, leaving him regrettably clear headed. He trusted Colin and now they've mated, he knew Colin was his. He debated for a moment, truly unsure how much he can trust the boy with something that would upset him. He needed assistance but he didn't know how deep Colin's loyalty ran. "You know I love you, right?" he asked softly, very aware of Colin's breath hitching and arms wrapping tightly around his neck. He wasn't exactly sure he was lying, he really did love Colin in his own way, but he knew Colin would react better that way. He almost felt guilty. _Almost_._

_"Yes," Colin whispered, feeling a bit overwhelmed for a moment. He hadn't known it. He'd guessed and hoped... but not _known_. He blinked the prickling sensation from his eyes and angled his head enough to be able to see Draco's face. The Slytherin looked pensive and unsure, his amber-grey eyes swirling with questions. "I love you, too. Are... are you alright?" he asked quietly, biting his lip. He really hoped Draco wasn't regretting what they've just done, not that it can be reversed or even forgotten. They're bonded now. The tingling bite-mark was proof enough of that. But he still worried; it had been a long, hard chase getting Draco to even kiss him (and mean it) and he didn't want to have it go tits up. Not now, not ever._

_Draco nodded firmly and then slowly shook his head, huffing out an irritated breath. "I have to tell you something but you can't tell anyone. Ever. _No one_," he stressed. He felt Colin nod and pushed him up, so he could look at him directly, looking intently at him. "I mean it. You have to swear."_

_"I swear, Draco," Colin said seriously. He was almost offended Draco even needed to say it... he hadn't betrayed the other blonde's trust, not once in the weeks they've been meeting up, and he didn't ever intend to. "I won't tell anyone. I won't ever tell anyone anything you tell me. I won't do that. I wouldn't. Who'd listen, anyway? But even if someone would listen, I wouldn't tell them anything. Those are your secrets. Well... ours. I haven't yet, have I?" he babbled, and he probably would have continued if Draco's finger didn't press his lips together, shutting him up._

_Draco tried not to sigh or laugh. Colin... apparently he was only quiet when getting pounded into the mattress. He made a mental note of it, smothering a pleased grin. "Alright. I have... things I need to do this year. Tasks. From _him_." He watched Colin's eyes widen with understanding and nodded slowly. "Yes. Terrible things," he said quietly. "I- things I don't exactly want to do and even if I did? I haven't the first clue how."_

_"What is it? What are you to do? What does... _he_ want?"_

_"I'm... I have to kill Dumbledore."_

_Colin sat up, his mouth hanging open in shock. "No, you can't! You can't kill Dumbledore! I mean, it's impossible and so wrong! No," he said and shifted closer, straddling Draco's hips and looking intently into his hardened amber-grey eyes. He _hated_ that look but ignored it for now, shaking his head, willing himself not to start bawling like a first-year with a skinned knee. "You can't. You'll... you'll be hated. Forever. By everyone!"_

_"Even you?" Draco asked softly._

_Colin paused, looking away and nibbling his bottom lip so hard Draco can smell the sharp tang of copper. "No, I wouldn't," he admitted quietly before looking at Draco again. He felt like a horrible person for saying it, but it was true. He couldn't ever hate Draco. "You don't have to do it," he said quickly, his eyes widening. "We'll run away. Go somewhere they can't find us! We don't ever have to come back here, never have to worry about _him_ again..."_

_"No, Colin," Draco sighed and shook his head. He cupped Colin's cheek gently, hoping the gesture will convey his love and seriousness. He didn't _want_ to kill the old coot, but what could he do? His options were depressingly limited and both outcomes fucking sucked. He was selfish enough to pick Dumbledore's death over his parents'. "I can't just run away. There's a lot more to it than just myself. If I leave? My mother, my father, are dead. He'll slaughter them, Colin. I... I can't take that chance," he said softly, his voice breaking a bit near the end. He watched Colin intently, tracking the emotions as they flash across his face. His shoulders want to sag when he saw determination spark in those brown eyes. Fucking Gryffindors... Of course, at the moment he was quite smitten with that fact since it was in his favor.  
_

_Colin sat up and grabbed Draco's shoulders. "I'll help you then. We'll figure out a way..." he said as firmly as he could but his voice still wavered with fear and uncertainty, leaning forward and kissing Draco. He laughed when the other blonde just sat there with a stunned look on his face. "What? I'm with you," he said and snuggled into Draco's chest, squeezing tightly. "I'm going to help you. Just tell me what you need."_

_Draco shook his head lightly as he grinned and ran a hand slowly though Colin's hair, sighing with relief. He had honestly expected a longer argument, hours and yelling before Colin gave in. He nearly rolled his eyes; he really shouldn't have been surprised. No, he didn't get any bright ideas from the smaller boy, but he might be able to figure something out with another mind working on the problem._

_The next thing he knew, he was in the Astronomy Tower with Colin. Both were edging towards the railing, Dumbledore weakly clinging and leaning against it for support. He wiped the sweat off of his brow with a shaking hand, trying to ignore Dumbledore's kind, fucking twinkling eyes and working to harden his resolve. He could _do_ this. His raised his wand, dismayed to see it shaking and stuttering around, unable to aim properly._

_"You can do this, Draco," Colin whispered, edging closer to the tense blonde. He laid a hand gently on the small of his back, inaudibly sighing with relief when he wasn't slapped away or snarled at. "What's one old man against two people you love? They've got their whole lives ahead of them. He's old and weak. You're doing him a favor," he said softly, wishing he were tall enough to be able to whisper it in Draco's ear. He knew Dumbledore could hear him and he flushed with shame. He didn't want the old man to die but Draco was his and therefore more important... to him. He was, apparently, quite happy to say 'fuck the wizarding world' as long as his Draco would be fine. He much rather Draco's parents lived and Draco didn't lose his family._

_Draco's hand steadied slowly and he subtly ran a hand down Colin's arm, thankful for his presence and gaining a bit of strength and courage from him. He didn't expect the little Gryffindor to be so supportive of the murder of a Wizarding icon, a beacon for the Light, a man that stood for values and all that disgusting Gryffindor-ness. A month ago, he knew Colin would've been horrified and never would've allowed himself to be so close and a party to the man's murder. He nearly felt bad about the boy's corruption but he shrugged it off. Colin must not be so full of sunshine and goodness if he was to be _his_ mate, now would he?_

_"Good evening, Draco. What brings you here on this fine, spring evening?" Dumbledore said, eyeing the tall blonde kindly._

_Draco sneered and looked around warily. "Who else is here? I heard you talking." He glanced at Colin and saw the other boy shrug; he didn't see anyone else here either._

_"I often talk aloud to myself. I find it extraordinarily useful. Have you been whispering to you yourself, Draco?" Dumbledore paused and gave Draco a kind look, nearly chuckling when the boy looked back with disdain. "Draco, you are no assassin."_

_Draco sneered again, stepping closer, his wand wavering only once. "How do you know what I am?! I've done things that would shock you!" he hissed and tilted his head enough for his amber eyes to shine back at the old man. A devious smirk lifted one side of his lips, gleefully showing off longer teeth as well, when Dumbledore stumbled with wide-eyes. It was exhilarating to know Dumbledore didn't know something; the old man didn't have a clue what he was. His top lip lifted in a silent snarl, the moonlight illuminating pale, too-long teeth._

_Dumbledore sighed and gave Draco a pitying look, only earning another fierce sneer and something that sounded like a snarl. "Like cursing Katie Bell and hoping that, in return, she would bear a cursed necklace to me?" he asked, that damned knowing twinkle in his eyes once more. Draco snarled again. "Like replacing a bottle of mead with one laced with poison? Forgive me, Draco, but I cannot help feeling these actions are so weak that your heart couldn't really be in them."_

_Draco bristled, snarling louder. How dare the old coot call him weak! "He trusts me! I was chosen!" he said and viciously lifted his left sleeve, revealing his Dark Mark with a vindictive, proud tilt to his head. He nearly growled when the old bastard didn't even look surprised._

_"I shall make it easy for you then..." Dumbledore said and raised his wand._

_Draco heard Colin gasp but he couldn't spare a glance to make sure he wasn't trying to do something stupid. "_Expelliarmus_!" he shouted, not bothering to note where the wand flew off to. He shifted when he felt Colin come closer and shook his head, waving him away with a flick of his wrist. He won't have Colin involved._

_"Very good, very good," Dumbledore said serenely. It made Draco want to tear his hair out. They both turn slightly when the distant sound of a door opening is heard. "You're not alone?" he asked, looking at Draco with curious interest. "There are others?" Draco nodded warily. "How?"_

_Draco sagged minutely, feeling failure and shame wash over him when he realized who the footsteps belonged to. He had lost his chance... "The vanishing cabinet," he muttered. "The one in the Room of Requirement. I've been mending it."_

_Dumbledore nodded. "Let me guess; it has a sister? A twin?"_

_"At Borgin and Berk's," Draco said quietly, the footsteps getting closer and louder. "They form a passage." Which fellow Death Eaters have already used, he mused bitterly as the footsteps got louder as they got closer._

_"Ingenius," Dumbledore praised, sounding genuinely impressed and proud. "Draco, years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices. Please let me help you."_

_Draco felt his eyes prickle sharply and his breath hitched almost painfully but he couldn't stop the hot tears from leaking out. He wanted to howl and rage. "I don't want your help! Don't you understand? I have to do this! I have to kill you!" he screamed, tears dripping forgotten off of his chin. "Or he's going to kill me..." he trailed off, his voice a mere whisper. His eyes darted from the door, to Dumbledore to Colin. For the first time, he was starting to regret bringing Colin... he could be in danger. He didn't trust Death Eaters to leave his little Colin alone._

_"Well, look what we have here. Well done, Draco!"_

_Draco nearly sagged with defeat when he heard the shrill voice of his aunt Bellatrix. He winced slightly when her insane cackle echoed through the room. He didn't turn to look but he heard the numerous footfalls of other Death Eaters. He wanted to panic, there were too many people here! He was taking too long to kill Dumbledore! From the corner of his eye, he saw Colin try to blend in with the shadows and nearly sighed with relief and silently hoped he would stay quiet and hidden. Safe. He immediately looked away before anyone could notice where he was looking and sneered when he saw Dumbledore twinkling at him. Again. Barmy old fool.  
_

_"Good evening, Bellatrix. I think introductions are called for," Dumbledore said, almost as if they were at some social function or afternoon tea. Draco found himself wondering just how sane the old bastard was._

_Bellatrix cackled, making Draco suppress a shudder. "Love to, Albus, but I'm afraid we're on a bit of a tight schedule," she said. She turned to Draco, "Do it!" she screeched, lifting her hands and curling her fingers into claws._

_"He doesn't have the stomach..." Draco felt bile rise and revulsion rolled through him when he heard Fenrir Greyback's low, growled voice come from somewhere behind him. Somewhere _too close_ behind him. He nearly turned his wand on the bastard. "Just like his father. Let me finish him in my own way," he said and stepped closer, his eyes glowing a soft yellow with savage glee._

_Draco panicked, he was losing control of everything so fast! He started with relief when a familiar, and welcomed, voice said "No." He turned enough to regard Severus and tried not to beg... for probably everything. Help, his and Colin's safety, an escape... He watched with stunned fascination as Severus approached Dumbledore, his face an expressionless mask but his eyes full of anguish and fear._

_"Severus... please..." Dumbledore whispered, his hand reaching out beseechingly -his fingers curling in ever so slightly._

_Severus paused for only a moment, his eyes and face both shuttered of any and all emotion -Draco wondered if he even saw it at all in the first place. His wand raised and in a eerily calm voice he muttered, "Avada Kedavra."_

_Draco watched with horrified fascination as Dumbledore sagged, his body tipping back to hit the railing and the old man disappeared over it with a soft flutter of robes. The only sound was the rustling of fabric but even that quickly dwindled into silence. He blinked at the sudden, quiet death of Dumbledore. Everything was eerily still for a few seconds before all hell broke loose. He didn't know when or why, but he realized Colin was at the railing; looking over and down with a soft wail, his kind nature drawing him over. To look? To save the old man somehow? He didn't know but he didn't even get the chance to shout at Colin, tell him to move or run._

_He went to rush over but his arm was grabbed by Severus and he was yanked away with enough force to make him stumble. "No! Colin!" Draco yelled, reaching towards the smaller blonde. His momentary relief when Colin turned to see him being pulled away shattered when he saw a wall of black robes converge around his little mate, blotting out his pale form like a morbid eclipse. "No!" he howled, tearing his arm savagely from Severus' grip. "Colin!" he screamed, running towards the cluster of Death Eaters. He howled with rage when the distinct smell of Colin's blood hit his nose, the scent thick and gagging, and he saw red. His wolf howled with rage. He didn't even register the multiple shocked faces, he just barreled forward._

_Without conscious thought, Draco ran toward the Death Eaters, his claws and teeth bursting forth as he rushed the group. He used them, his wand completely forgotten in his rage and shocked horror, slashing and tearing into every Death Eater surrounding his Colin until he was panting, covered in blood (enjoying the slick, warm feel of it dripping from his fingers) and shaking violently. The only one left standing was Severus, who had stayed wisely off to the side._

_He fell to his knees, not even registering the painful crack as his knees hit the stone floor, a pitiful keening howl coming from his throat as he crawled over to Colin's body. "You can't die... you weren't supposed to die," he muttered in a choked voice, stroking blood caked blonde hair away from his deathly pale face. He howled again, swaying and rocking, as he crushed Colin's lifeless body to his chest, barely able to breath through the gut wrenching sobs and tears of grief._

Draco woke up, panting and covered in sweat. "What the fuck..." he whispered, a shaky hand wiping at his damp forehead. His mind whirled even as he threw the covers off and rushed from his room. He knew he had been dreaming but it had felt so _real_... His eyes, bright with panic and fear, dart around the empty corridor as he knocked on Severus' door in hard, quick raps. Nothing was making sense and he needed to talk. He didn't even care what time it was. He startled violently when the door was briskly pulled open, looking up and blinking stupidly at the dour Potion Master's pinched face.

"Yes, Draco?" Severus drawled, a glare aimed at Draco. He nearly rolled his eyes and sighed, wondering what could have brought Draco to his door in the middle of the night in just a bed sheet. Surely the boy had the dignity to seek clothing?

Draco rushed into the man's room, rudely brushing past Severus without an invitation. He didn't even care if the man had closed the door or not, granting them privacy, he couldn't stop the insane babbling from flowing from his mouth. "I had the most horrific dream. I... I was... And we... we were..." he shuddered. It was disturbing how much he enjoyed the first part, he had never before had such thoughts. He was also disturbed by how  
_right_ it had felt. He shivered, but it wasn't exactly unpleasantly.

He paced, his fist clenched tight around the edges of the sheet he had wrapped around him. "I told him what I had to do and he... he helped me," he said, sounding stunned and awed. "Supported me. _Cared_. I was so fucking _stupid_," he hissed and ran a hand roughly through his hair. "Of all the fucking mates... stupid, fucking werewolf!" he moaned, his voice heavy with frustration and regret and smacked a hand roughly against his chest, as if he was able to actually hit the wolf. "And then... The tower. And you..." he said, pausing to turn to look at Severus. "And Dumbledore... Bellatrix and Fenrir... Oh gods, there was so much blood and his small lifeless body," he whispered, horrified, as a pale shaky hand came up to cover his face. Sure, he wasn't exactly attached to Colin but it was a horrific sight and he had _felt_ the raging grief as if it were real. He suppressed a shudder and he paced some more, muttering to himself and throwing a hand up occasionally. He knew he wasn't making any sense but he couldn't think straight.

"I haven't the foggiest notion what you are babbling about, Draco," Severus said calmly, tracking the boy's stiff, hurried movements back and forth with his eyes. Of course, he was able to understand the random bits and pieces fit together, he just couldn't quite piece them together to get the whole story. He knew Draco was tasked with something and he nearly closed his eyes in resigned horror to now know it had something to do with Dumbledore. He shook his head minutely; the boy was destined to fail.

Draco laughed, the sound a bit shrill and hysterical. "I know! I don't either." He rushed over to Severus, grabbing a fistful of his black robes tight enough to send the older man stumbling into Draco. "You have to help me! You have to get it out! I can't take this. The fucking wolf... it wants him! I can't... it's impossible. I won't... he's a fucking Gryffindor. A Mudblood Gryffindor," he panted. He shook the fist in Severus' robes and nearly screamed, "DO SOMETHING!" He pulled back, his face flushed and his eyes wild.

"You know as well as I, Draco, that what you ask is impossible," Severus said as kindly as he could, wrapping a hand around the fist clutched in his robes. "I can only help ease some of the symptoms with the Wolfsbane, but that is not a _cure_. There isn't one," he said softly, warily watching Draco. "You _know_ this." The boy was still breathing harshly, his eyes wild -a more pronounced amber tinge to them with more seeping in with each breath the boy took. If he didn't get Draco calmed, he'd have a fully changed werewolf in his quarters. Joy. "This is one of the facts you must accept, Draco."

Draco shook the fist, smacking it painfully into Severus' chest and he snarled. "No, I won't accept that. You're a fucking genius! You have to find some way... I can't... I won't accept this. I won't accept him," he ended in a quiet voice. "I'm not gay," he whispered venomously. He choked back a sob, groaning pitifully and trying not to bury his face in Severus' chest and start bawling like a baby. He still couldn't speak in a coherent sentence and he was amazed Severus hadn't slapped for being hysterical or thrown him out. He saw a flash in his periphery and grabbed a slim knife, Severus obviously had been preparing potion ingredients. But before he could slash himself with it, Severus' hand closed tightly over his. "No!" he growled, trying to jerk his hand free. "I have to get it out! I can't take this!"

"Draco, you can not change this!" Severus said loudly, wrenching the knife away with a final jerk. He suppressed the shakes that wanted to take over his body as fear and reality settled in. If he had been a moment slower or unable to remove that knife... It was relief enough he hadn't been using his silver knife. He calmed himself and forced Draco's head up, dark eyes boring into anguished silvery-amber. "It just _is_. It can not be changed, removed or undone, Draco. You need to accept the facts as they are, not how you wish them to be," he said, his voice soft and as kind as he could make it but still firm. He would rather eat a whole jar of flobberworms than be the 'comforter' but he cared about Draco too much to kick the boy out in the state he was in.

He could understand Draco's distress, finally piecing together some facts from the ramblings he had done earlier. "You can not choose your mate, you have to accept that as well. There is always a reason why you are fated to a specific person. It does not matter that it is a man, or even his blood status," he chided. He didn't think now was the time to remind Draco he himself wasn't exactly pure-blooded anymore. He nearly sneered at the hypocritical little snob. "It is a little... distressing it is a Gryffindor," he paused, trying not to grimace, "but you have to accept it. _All_ of it." He shook the boy gently, hoping his words sunk in and were processed.

Draco sniffled pitifully, wiping his eyes with a sheepish glance up at Severus and gave a long suffering sigh as he took in the stern but kind expression. Well... kind for Severus. He felt like a misbehaving child under that look. "I... I'll try," he finally muttered. It would take some getting used to. And time. Lots of fucking time to accept it. He brightened as a thought occurred to him. "Maybe it _was_ only a dream... not at all true. Maybe I'm wrong and he's not my mate."

"I highly doubt that, Draco," Severus drawled, looking down his nose at the boy. "You know as well as I this was not _just_ a dream. You would not be this upset if that were so," he said shrewdly, trying not to sneer at the boy. He was too intelligent to act so foolish. Even so, he was pleased to note the flush was mostly gone from Draco's face, neck and chest and his breathing was back to a more normal rhythm. "If it were only a dream, you would have spared us both the middle of the night dramatics and kept it to yourself."

Draco glared but finally nodded his agreement. Severus, the greasy old bastard, was right. He wouldn't have freaked out so badly if he didn't believe what he saw. At least a little bit. Not only was there the dream but the subtle signs he had noticed the last few days being around Colin. He closed his eyes with a resigned sigh. "I'm sorry for bothering you, Severus, but I thank you for your... help." He averted his eyes, embarrassed and ashamed to have been so rash and hysterical. He shuddered as his eyes landed on the discarded knife again and quickly looked away.

"You are welcome. I would say 'anytime' but I do not wish to be disturbed at this hour again." Severus raised an eyebrow and gave Draco a sharp look. He nearly grinned when the boy's shoulders hunched up and he hurried from the room, dragging his sheet behind him and nearly slamming it in the door in his rush out. He sighed and flopped into the closest chair, carelessly summoning a half-full tumbler of whiskey.

That boy was going to be the death of him...


	11. Scrub it out

Draco tipped his head back, relishing the warm water cascading down his body and relative peace a long,hot shower provided. He took a long moment to let his hands wander warm, wet slick skin; willfully blocking the images of other pale, soft skin as he did. He sighed, and reached for the shampoo, realizing, regretfully, going any further in the public dorm shower was a dumb idea. He didn't at all fancy being spied or or even propositioned.

He lazily massaged shampoo into his scalp as his thoughts wandered. Thankfully, the disturbing dream had drifted deep into his subconscious and he'd been able to finally get the cabinet completed just this morning. The charmed window had shown the sky lightening to a pale purple when he finally heard a telling 'snick' and his test subject (a conjured bluebird) chirped happily when he'd opened the door. It had survived! He'd finally done it! At the time, relief had overwhelmed any other emotion. It had been knee-weakening, an almost alien feeling, that had him wobbling and nearly landing on his arse amongst the piles of junk and dust. Now though, a smug smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he tipped his head back again, rinsing the fragrant bubbles from his pale hair.

After the relief, which he did not want to admit meant anything other than relief at finally being done; It definitely wasn't a subconscious joy at knowing he'd spared his life -even if temporarily- or saved himself from torture. No, it was merely at a job well done and at pleasing the Dark Lord; he _almost_ convinced himself. Anyway, after the relief he had felt accomplished. Successful. _Powerful_. His mind practically swam with the numerous images of the Dark Lord's praise, those red eyes shining with pride, and offered rewards. A disturbing giddiness had bubbled up and he very nearly _giggled_, alone in the Room of Lost Things. He wasn't to know he'd more than likely be _Crucio_'d (numerous times, most definitely) for not completing his task sooner or just on the insane bastard's whim, but it was nice to dream. He'd always been rather adept at self delusion. He imagined moving up in the ranks, taking his father's place or becoming the Dark Lord's personal apprentice and his every whim satisfied.

He hummed with self-satisfaction, and hand lazily gliding down a soap-slick chest; there wasn't a thing out of his reach now. He could pretend loyalty to the Dark Lord, the insane bastard, if it got him what he wanted. He was a Malfoy; it was expected to crave power, wealth and status. Unfortunately, Voldemort was probably a large -if not only- key in his getting it. If Severus had managed to keep Old Snake Face fooled, Draco was sure he could as well. He was reasonably skilled in Occlumency; he could build up his mental walls and the Dark Git would be none the wiser. A devious smirk tugged at his lips as he absently smoothed numerous softening potions into his skin.

His hands pause as unwanted thoughts crowd his mind; Dumbledore. He snarled unconsciously, the soundless move lifting his lip. _That_ was a big problem and one he still had no answer for. How did one kill such a man?

He wasn't foolish, or arrogant, enough to really believe he stood a chance against the crazy old fool. Dumbledore might be old, verging on insane, but he was still a powerful wizard. Age might've slowed his body but it hadn't dampened his power or his wits when it came to dueling. One only had to look at the old bastard to sense it, know it. He nervously worried his bottom lip, allowing himself to show a rare moment of unease since he was alone. Unwanted fear gnawed at him and he hissed a curse, flicking the water off with an angry twist of his hand. Damn that old barmy bastard for making him doubt himself!

And damn the Dark Lord for giving him such a task, placing his family at risk and almost guaranteeing his failure and their death at his hands. He stalked into his bedroom and paused, his nostrils flaring sharply.

His head whipped around, looking for the source of the... alluring scent. He took a large lungful, his chest expanding as he inhaled deeply, his eyes flickering closed with unconscious pleasure as he tasted the heady scent. It tickled a part of him he normally suppressed and he growled softly, a deep rumble of pleasure and contentment. He took a few more short sniffs, enjoying the raw, primal scent of power and sex. He growled softly again, his body tingling as images of a dark, welcoming forest flickered through his mind. His eyes snap open when he heard soft footsteps and he went still, his brain trying desperately to make sense of what he was seeing.

Harry Potter.

Naked.

His eyes widen and against his wishes roam the nude form in display. His eyes pause unconsciously over a toned chest, silvery-amber eyes darting and taking in a large lion tattooed across The Savior's chest. He'd snort with amusement at the irony but he was enraptured beyond rational sense. It had to be a charmed or magical tattoo; the lion's tail was flicking lazily over Potter's left hipbone and razor-sharp-looking claws were flexing in a kneading manner over one broad shoulder. There was a definite purring sound coming from directly in front of him and dammit if it wasn't arousing. He couldn't tell if it was coming from the damn lion or Potter and his brows furrowed in confusion and irritation. What the fuck was Potter doing in his room?

Slowly, he looked up and fought the mad urge to cringe or run away when he noticed the other man's skin was pale. Paler than he'd ever seen Potter look; deathly white, like a corpse. His skin wanted to crawl right off his body when he looked into muddy yellow eyes, oddly wishing he was looking into the familiar sparkling emerald. Those currently looking at him blankly made his wolf want to whimper or tear into something in a confused rage. He cleared his throat and glared, trying to tell himself it was only Potter, maybe in some sort of lame costume. He didn't care how to git got in his room, he wasn't staying. "Leave, Potter," he said, his voice calm he was proud to notice.

"Don't you like it?" came an angry, accusing voice. Potter shifted and was now leaning in a rather alluring manor against his bedpost.

Draco tried not to blink, stammer or make any other indicator of his shock to hear _Colin's_ voice emanating from the deranged Potter-look-alike. He felt something prickle through him, something like annoyance, to hear Colin's sweet, calming voice coming from... that. He made the mistake of closing his eyes, replaying the words and he felt an embarrassing urge to step forward. When he opened his eyes, he had taken that step, dimly aware of a heady, almost drunk feeling of _want_ present. The scent and sound of Colin clashed harshly with the image of Potter and he wanted to hit something. He stopped himself with an effort and glared. "Get out."

Potter ignored him, stepping closer with a secret little smile on his lips. "Aww, come on, Pookie. Don't be so moody," he said, a playful lilt in his borrowed Colin-voice that had Draco wanting to make another step forward. He could even forgive the horrible nickname; it was kind of cute not that he'd ever, _ever_ admit that aloud. It made something clench painfully deep in his chest to see Potter but _hear_ Colin. "We can have a lot of fun together."

Draco barely bit off a groan, unbidden images flashing through his mind. "Leave," he said, his voice too quiet and no longer carrying the command he desperately wished it did.

"You're so stressed, I only want to help."

Draco opened his eyes, unsure when he closed them again and gaped stupidly to see Pansy standing before him. He can feel his eyes bug unattractively as he looked the other brunette over; a black corset barely covered most of her pale skin, pushing her sizable breasts up to an almost obscene fullness. Tiny knickers that were barely more than small bits of fabric and ribbon. Lace and more ribbon wrapped around her hips, tempting garters holding up silky, smoke-like nylons that clung to shapely, long legs.

He blinked owlishly, trying to wrap his head around the sudden sight. It took him a moment to realize she was standing right in front of him, obviously wearing ridiculously high heels as he was a good 5 inches taller than usual. He looked down and tried not to moan at the wicked looking, thigh-high dragon hide boots strapped to her feet. As he looked back up, her hand came up and rested on his cheek. Her touch was cool and he had to suppress an urge to tear his head away from her.

"Come here," she demanded, her fingers arching just enough to have manicured fingernails digging lightly into his skin. Any playfulness was gone; the command was brusque and refused to be denied.

He shuffled forward, unable or unwilling to refuse, when his senses were blasted by the same alluring scent he'd caught earlier. He jerked his head away, '_Must resist_' went through his mind like a mantra as he struggled. He didn't know why he was fighting it, but fight he did. He didn't want her, she was wrong. Pansy just stood, watching with a blank expression as he physically struggled; every muscle was bulging, rippling with effort as he struggled against himself. He would not give in! "Must resist," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"No... you really don't," Potter said, resuming once again in Colin's voice. Draco's body bowed, everything going lax, and he panted. "I want to know what it feels like to be Harry and you won't ruin it." It was said flatly, broking no arguments and Draco shuddered, unable to separate Potter and Colin anymore. He smelled Colin. He heard Colin. He doesn't care what Colin wanted; he doesn't care if he wanted to be some second-rate Potter or some sort of hero. He doesn't care, he just _wanted_.

Draco's control snapped with a howl and he flung Colin onto the bed. He cracked open his eyes and nearly whimpered when he saw the expecting, waiting, wanting expression on Potter's face. As he heard Colin's soft voice hiss 'Yes', he was done. He pounced, feeling oddly feline and closed his eyes, all of his other senses gratefully filled with Colin as he drowned himself in his soft whispers and wonderful scent. He blindly tore at soft skin, rutting and blindly thrusting, spurred on by Colin's pants, moans and whispers.

Draco's eyes popped open with a loud "Fuck!" What the actual fuck was going on? "WHY?" he hissed and punched a fist into the mattress. He layed back into his mound of pillows and tried to control his breathing. He could not pester Severus again, it was barely even 4 am. The man's good graces could only be pushed so far. He rolled over with a growling huff, refusing to pay any attention to the pathetically throbbing issue from the fucking dream, and willed himself to sleep. Without dreams of Colin.

A few minutes later and he realized it was useless. He was panting by now, unable to calm himself. He grunted a curse as he stumbled from his bed and padded towards the bathroom, a queasy feeling roiling in his guts. He just barely made it to the toilet and violent threw up, eyes watering viciously as he tried to purge himself. Of the dreams, of his responsibilities, hell probably even of the thrice damned werewolf lingering inside. He scrunched his eyes closed and tried to calm himself.

What was happening to him?

Why was he dreaming about Colin?

He couldn't understand it. He rested his clammy forehead on his arm, uncaring he was practically hugging the toilet. He had bigger issues to worry about than a bit of unsanitary phobias. Impossible tasks, inner wolves, bearded old bastards, Mudbloods and downright criminally insane followers seemed to press in on him all at once. He sighed tiredly and wished it would just go the fuck away.

Unbidden, the phantom feeling of warm, perfect, comforting arms seem to wrap around him he had to breathe harshly through another wave of nausea, loathing the very idea of vomiting again. He sniffed pathetically, and stiffened when a familiar scent smacked him in the face. No! He cannot be smelling that; Colin wasn't there and it should be impossible. He let out a groan and flopped against the wall, his bare arse chilling on the tile. He didn't care, he just wanted everything to go away. He rolled his eyes at the childish thoughts and closed them with a long, annoyed sigh. He felt pathetic to be comforted by his own damn mind, why else would he imagine Colin's comforting embrace?

Not that he found it comforting...

If he was honest with himself it probably wasn't all down to Colin's house, blood purity or even his gender. It was because the fucking wolf wanted him, leaving Draco with no real choice in the matter. He was aroused because of a damned magical virus. He slapped at the porcelain and growled, baring slightly sharpened canines in his irritation. It, somehow, was worse to know Colin wasn't at all opposed to him. He chuckled despite himself, wondering what sort of Fate would dare pair Colin with him. He couldn't even figure out why his stupid wolf wanted the smaller blonde. What made him special? Nothing, as far as he could tell.

Severus. Severus was little help and honestly, he knew no one could help him. Not with any of his problems. He shuddered and slowly got to his feet, shuffling back towards the shower. He turned the water on, as hot as he could stand, and dunked himself under the spray. He scrubbed as hard as he dared, trying to wash everything away. His fucking wolf, the intoxicating scent of Colin and probably even the impossible tasks he needed to do for Old Snake Face. He tried to ignore the low mutterings; he didn't want to acknowledge the fact he was talking to himself. He pretended he didn't hear the soft, whispered words bouncing around the steamy room.

"Scrub it off."

"Scrub it out."

"Not my bloody mate."

By the time he felt done, his skin was pink and raw. He winced as he carefully dried himself. He stared at his reflection for a long moment, transfixed to see his luminous amber tinged eyes and elongated canines. He sighed, wiping the mirror clean and tried to get his bearings. He growled softly, more than a little annoyed that he can't clear his mind. He raised an eyebrow when a little voice spoke up his head. _Scrubbing didn't help, Drakey! You will never get him off. He is the one, _our_ one… our mate. We love no others and together we will march to war. With him at our side_. It seemed to be mocking him and he uttered a short bark of laughter, unsurprised his own mind would make fun of him.

Draco's hands curled into fists, claws biting into his palms and his breath panting out harshly. He glared at his reflection and screamed with rage, punching the glass when he saw his reflection; its mouth quirk up in a smirking sneer. Mocking him. Taunting him. Teasing him. "Fuck!" he cried and held his hand against his chest. He was going insane. He turned on his heel, ignoring the broken glass and slammed the door, intent on ignoring everything, and rushed down to see Severus. He had to be able to help, he hoped as he ran down the corridor.

~o.O~

Narcissa laid awake in bed, her mind whirling with thoughts. Her eyes slowly slide over to stare at a dark shard, laying ever so innocently on her bedside table. A pale hand darted out and gingerly picked it up, gently running a finger along the ragged edge. She knew it wouldn't cut her but she was still careful. One could never be too careful.

"Is Draco ready to fulfill the Prophecy?"

Narcissa swallowed, closing her eyes as she tried to keep the voice of the shard from sounding like her son. But it was impossible; it always sounded like her sweet Draco. "I did as you asked..." she said quietly, speaking to the shard in her palm and trying not to feel foolish. "The sword is with him and the dreams have begun."

She flinched when a cold, high-pitched tittering filled the room -or maybe just her mind. She nearly dropped the shard, fear and a bit of anger flashing through her to know the damn thing was laughing at her.

"Then you shall be the Savior of two worlds..."

The voice echoed and died off, the 's' reverberating through her mind like a snake's hiss and she shuddered with revulsion. She carefully placed the shard back on her bedside table. Not for the first, and most assuredly not the last, time she turned in her bed silently wondering just what she'd done.


	12. Lunch dates and Secrets revealed

_(A/N: Rated **M** for mature content/language. Just a quick heads up for a bit o' violence... carry on. :))_

Pansy paused, her head cocked slightly to one side, on her way to the Slytherin common room. It wasn't often (if at all) one heard running footsteps in the dungeons this time of night. Slytherins didn't run like common plebeians. She gaped stupidly, another thing Slytherins didn't normally do, when she nearly collided with Draco.

"Draco!" she shrieked, surprised nearly speechless to see him running about the dungeons. It nearly froze her brain.

Draco narrowly avoided slamming into the dark-haired girl and skidded to a stop, his shoulders hunching up protectively. That was a very familiar tone. Pansy was appalled and horrified. Probably a bit angry, as well. "Yes, Pansy," he called, trying to sound calm. It didn't work. He was panting from his run and still freaking out from earlier.

"Don't 'yes, Pansy', me, Draco!" Pansy said in a shriek, stalking over to the blonde and turning him around. She gaped again when she caught sight of his drawn features and spotty color. He had two small circles of red high on his cheeks from the running but otherwise he was pale. Well, paler than usual. "Draco?" she murmured, stepping closer and laying a comforting hand on his arm.

Draco sagged, too tired and quite grateful for the comfort to shake the girl off. "Yes, Pansy?" he sighed with resignation. He highly doubted he'd be seeing Severus later.

"Are you alright?" Pansy asked quietly, looking intently at the blonde. She'd know if he was lying and she smirked when Draco's shoulders sagged further; Draco was well aware of that fact. She gently cupped his face, hoping to sooth and comfort. They weren't exactly close anymore but she did still care about the bastard.

Draco paused, unsure what to say. He hadn't seen Pansy in days and he really didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell her what was on his mind without telling her everything. He sighed and closed his eyes slowly. "I'm going insane," he finally muttered.

"Draco, dear, you need to expand on that."

Draco sighed again and shook Pansy off but only enough to lean against the cool stone wall. "I can't."

"Surely you can," Pansy scoffed. She studied the blonde and sucked her teeth softly. "Does this have anything to do with where you bugger off to once a month or the tiny little blonde Gryffindor you've been eye fucking for the past week?"

Draco gaped. He couldn't help it. Pansy wasn't stupid, far from it, but he had never expected her to be so... observant. "Uh," he said eloquently and cursed under his breath. "What I mean to say is, why would you ask me any of that?"

"Well," Pansy said slowly, settling next to Draco on the wall with her palm cupping one elbow, her other hand curled under her chin. "I've always kept an eye on you, Draco, since first year. You _know_ this." Draco nodded slowly, a sheepish look flitting across his face. "So naturally, I noticed when you would sneak away. I don't have a clue where you go, of course. It would be quite inappropriate to pry..." she trailed off with a wink. Naturally, she was itching to know but knew Draco well enough he'd only tell her if he wanted to. "And as for Creevey," she shrugged, "I've seen _that_ _look _before, it wasn't that hard to sort out." She rolled her eyes. The fool must be losing his mind to be smitten with a Gryffindor. And to not even realize he was broadcasting that fact, as well.

Draco pursed his lips and silently sorted his thoughts. Pansy had always been a close friend, their physical relationship had only been one of convenience for both of them, and he did care for her a great deal. Even if he didn't love her properly. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He didn't see the horrified look on Pansy's face at the action, or he probably would have just walked away. "I can't comment on the first, but the second," he shrugged and gave her a helpless look. "I can't _help_ it."

"Why not?" Pansy asked, her face twisted slightly in disgust. "I don't care he's a bloke," she said with an eye roll when Draco leveled a heated glare at her. "He's a _Gryffindor_!" she shrieked in explanation when he only continued to stare at her expectantly. She wasn't sure how wise it was to point out he was also a Mudblood, unsure how Draco would take the slur against his little love-object.

Draco nodded sadly. He knew that. It didn't stop him from, as Pansy put it, eye fucking the other blonde. "Yes, I'm aware of that. Thank you," he said dryly.

"There's more..." Pansy said knowingly, daring Draco to lie. She nodded when he looked away with a light flush and tsked. "You don't have to tell me," her tone dripping with disappointment. It was distracting enough to the Draco blushing. She hadn't thought her fellow Slytherin capable of such a thing! It was almost, dare she admit it, adorable. Even if it was over a Gryffindor.

Draco sighed, again, and let his head fall against the wall. Pansy could be trusted, right? He didn't know how loyal she or her family was to the Dark Lord and he had been (surprisingly) successful at keeping his big secret away from the scaly faced git. So far. "I can't tell you," he finally said, his voice quiet. "I wish I could."

"You don't trust me," Pansy stated. It wasn't a question and she narrowed her eyes when Draco, reluctantly, nodded slowly. "I'm hurt, Draco," she said dramatically, a hand to her wounded heart, but it was clear she was serious. "Fine," she said dismissively. "Where were you off to in such a hurry?"

Draco pushed off the wall and looked at Pansy. "I _would_ tell you, Pans, if it was as easy as just trusting you," he said. He trusted Pansy more than he trusted most of his house. "I just don't want you in danger," he said softly.

"Right," Pansy scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Really," Draco said, annoyed she thought he was lying. "And I was going to see Professor Snape."

Pansy blinked. No one bothered the Potions Master at this time of night and survived. Their Head of House was a right git even in the best of circumstances. "Why?" she asked, her curiosity making her step closer and stare the blonde down. Just _what_ was going on?! It didn't make any sense for Draco to be running through the castle, to see Snape. Nothing was making sense and it was bloody frustrating! She nearly gave into the childish impulse to stomp her foot and demand answers.

"It's a personal matter," Draco said after a moment's pause and fought the urge to fidget. Or just run off without an explanation.

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "I see."

"I have to go," Draco blurted out and turned. He didn't get far, stopped by a dainty hand that was surprisingly strong. "What?" he huffed, turning his head enough to glare at Pansy.

Pansy's eyes were still narrowed. "These are all connected... Professor Snape, you leaving and Creevey." Draco just stared at her but she saw his eyes widen ever-so-slightly and smirked smugly. "Alright then," she said and let the blonde's arm go. "Off you go. Do be careful."

Draco hurried off, while trying not to look like he was hurrying. He cursed under his breath, hoping Pansy didn't actually connect all of the facts and come up with the truth. He honestly didn't know if she would be able to keep it to herself or not... and it was highly annoying (and a bit panic inducing) to not know. He wondered if a Wizard's Oath would be offensive or not… he could confide in Pansy and be sure the knowledge wouldn't leave her confidence. He could at least control how she found out and what she did with the information if that were the case. He absently walked past Severus' personal rooms, too absorbed in his thoughts to notice.

~o.O~

Draco glared at the owl dancing by his plate and hurriedly took the small envelope from it. He didn't trust a rented Post Owl as far as he could throw one. Thankfully, the bird was happy with stealing a piece of his sausage instead of a nasty bite to one of his fingers and was off in a flutter of wings. He stared at the small envelope for a long moment, unfamiliar with the messy handwriting. He took a brief glance around the Great Hall but didn't notice anyone watching him. He turned back to the folded paper and carefully opened it after casting a few subtle charms to make sure it wasn't hexed or spelled to harm him. With a mental sigh of gratitude for Severus' tutoring on such things, he upturned the envelope.

A strange bumpy circle of metal hit the table with a soft clang and a small note fluttered out. Out of reflex, he still the metal circle's movements and caught the note before it could land.

_"Draco,_

_Please meet me at Plumvanilla Cafe . I have some important things to discuss with you. The enclosed bottle cap is a Port-Key. If you can manage it, discretely, it'll activate on Saturday at 12:15 pm. _

_Please._

_Colin."_

Draco stared at the note and the bottle cap, his thumb absently running over the ridges. He had little interest in meeting Colin Creevey. Well, that wasn't true... but he didn't want to, even if the invitation did pique his curiosity in the worst way. He did want to meet the Gryffindor, mostly just to see what he had to discuss. What could it be that required them to leave Hogwarts (_without_ permission, apparently)? Possibilities bounced around his mind and he looked up to see Creevey watching him. Blue eyes widened and darted away.

Draco smirked and thoughtfully tossed the bottle-cap a few times before standing. Saturday was in two days. He had two days to decide if he would go or not. He was reluctantly impressed the younger blonde had managed a Port-key, though. It wasn't easy to get one and he was itching to know how the Gryffindor did it. A quick glance across the hall and he'd made up his mind, bemused he didn't even need two days to think and ponder.

He'd go. He couldn't risk pissing off the Gryffindor and Colin blurting out his secrets. (He didn't believe the younger blonde wouldn't ever tell and tried to ignore the power Colin held; really it was easy enough to overlook when Colin gave him adoring puppy-eyes and followed him around like a loyal crup. It would only take five words to destroy him: Malfoy is a Death Eater.) It only seemed icing on the fairy cake that he'd get information as well... He hid a smug grin with a brief duck of his head, quite pleased with himself, and slowly walked out of the Great Hall.

~O.o~

Draco kept his balance as the Port-key dropped him in front of a quaint looking tavern-looking building. He glanced up and nodded at the sign; this was the place he was to meet Creevey. He nearly rolled his eyes; it was Muggle. Of course it would be Muggle… He had little experience with anything Muggle and he was dismayed to realize he felt himself growing damp with sweat.

He smoothed the lapels of his black jacket (that didn't need smoothing), adjusted his black tie (that didn't need adjusting), brushed off his black trousers (that didn't need brushing) and squared his shoulders. He was _not_ nervous, he told himself and pushed the door open. He could handle being around Muggles. He'd been able to find suitable attire, the dark Muggle style suit quite adequate –not that he'd admit that aloud. Ever. He looked around and immediately spotted Creevey, his blonde hair sticking out like a beacon in the dimly lit interior. He nearly rolled his eyes; between the both of them, this wouldn't be at all a secret meeting. He paused in his steps, unsure what the Gryffindor was eating but continued with a mental shrug.

"Creevey," he drawled, stepping up to the table. His eyes flicked over Colin and he forced himself not to react. He would either sneer or purr; neither would be appropriate. Sneer because the clothes were Muggle. A pair of denims (which looked rather form fitting from what Draco could see) and a lightly colored, subtly patterned button up shirt, the sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up to his forearms. He nearly purred for the same reason; Colin looked quite... appealing. He quickly looked away from the slightly curly, golden blonde hair falling into one blue eye and looked around the place. It was Muggle and he felt his skin crawl as he took in all of the people around them. He forced himself to stop, he couldn't exactly be all that picky these days, now could he. He wasn't exactly pure and he was currently lusting after a Mud- Muggleborn. It was irritating having to deal with so much in so little time, but he could adapt.

Colin jumped, dropping his slice of pizza and slamming his book closed. "Draco!" he squeaked. His eyes eagerly roamed the blonde's tall figure and he had to check himself, as subtly as he could, for drool. The older blonde always dressed nicely but the man just did something for a Muggle suit. The black brought out his pale skin and hair, his eyes looked nearly metallic with the contrast. It was almost easy to forget how odd the attire was, given the casual atmosphere. He didn't think the blonde cared, even if he had known what would be appropriate. Thankfully, after a furtive glance around, no one seemed to pay him much attention after a brief perusal (which was annoying and he found himself wanting to hex the next person that ogled the Slytherin). He nearly drooled again at the mental image of Draco in jeans, even if he knew for a fact it would never happen. "I wasn't sure you'd come," he breathed, relief coursing through him.

"Yes, well," Draco raised his chin haughtily and sniffed, folding himself into the chair opposite Colin. He briefly glanced at the book in front of the younger blonde, his brows raising. He hadn't a clue why the Gryffindor would be reading rubbish about the Hogwarts' founders, myths and rumors at that, and shrugged it off. "What did you want?"

Colin blushed and fiddled with the corner of the book. He really hadn't expected Draco to show up. He had nearly been caught stealing the Port-keys from McGonagall's personal quarters. He didn't know why she had them (maybe confiscated from a student?) and he didn't care. He had only counted his luck in and swiped them (nearly having several heart attacks during but he had been able to steal both of the bottle caps). Another case of nerves while he wrote the note and he managed to send one to Draco in a burst of bravery. He had watched the older blonde read his note when it was delivered in the Great Hall, of course. Draco hadn't given anything away as he read it and he hadn't known what to think. "Well," he said. "I have something I wanted to tell you."

"Yes," Draco drawled, sounding bored and looking around the cozy tavern with bland interest. "So you said. What is it?" he looked down to brush imaginary lint of his trousers before glancing back at Colin.

Colin snapped his mouth shut on the answer when a waitress popped up and interrupted. He ordered something at random, watching with interest as Draco ordered. He stifle the stupid, love-sick sigh he wanted to breath and just contented himself with watching. He was good at that. The waitress finally wandered off, he glared at her back because he had noticed her flirting attempts (but internally cheered when Draco hadn't bothered to even glance at her), and he slowly turned back to the irritated Slytherin. "Uh. It's about," he leaned in closer and waved a hand, asking for Draco to move in as well. Draco rolled his eyes, but eventually he leaned in too. Colin stifled the urge to giggle madly, caresses one fine cheekbone, or run his fingers through the pale blonde strands. He missed his camera... this moment would make a very nice memento. "Voldemort," he whispered, almost inaudibly.

"What?" Draco hissed, turning his head to glare at Colin. Where did the Gryffindor get off saying the Dark Lord's name?! "You've been around Potter too much," he said dryly, annoyed and impressed in equal measures the other blonde would have the bullocks to say the Dark Lord's name and not one of the many, cowardly hyphenated monikers most people used. Colin only shrugged. "What about... _it_?" he asked, leaning back with a jerk.

He needed the space; his senses were going absolutely insane being that close to Colin. As it was, he could feel his trousers fitting a bit tighter and his eye-teeth itching. So much for the comforting space in Denial he had been hoping to live in for awhile, he mused as he shifted himself as subtly as possible. He nearly sighed, annoyed and irritatingly pleased with the evidence of the truth of one Colin Creevey being his mate.

Colin glanced around and slid the book he was reading across the table towards Draco. "I wrote it down," he said, watching as the blonde lifted the cover (after a brief glance at the title) and removed a folded piece of parchment. He had made very careful notes of everything he had heard The Golden Trio say, as well as his own thoughts and ideas on what they spoke about. He was very thorough. He watched, nervously worrying his lips and his hands wringing each other under the table, as he watched the Slytherin read. Again, nothing showed on Draco's face and he had no idea what was going through the Slytherin's mind at the moment. He fidgeted with the corner of his book.

"And?" Draco asked tightly, his palms sweating and his heart beating too fast. He couldn't believe what he read and he couldn't believe Colin was showing it to him! He narrowed his eyes at the younger blonde, trying to decipher his motives. The Gryffindor was basically handing him step-by-step instructions how to kill the Dark Lord... _if_ what he read was true. He might doubt the intelligence of Potter and the Weasel, but Granger was another story. As much as it irritated him, he knew the witch wouldn't be wrong. She probably slept with a damn book...

Colin shrugged, unsure how much he should say aloud. "You read my notes?" Draco nodded, fighting the urge to roll his eyes; the Gryffindor had sat there and _watched_. "That's all I know..."

"I see," Draco said quietly. He folded the parchment and slid it into the inner pocket of his jacket. He resisted the urge to fidget, unsure what else to say. A 'thank you' seemed too inadequate and felt wrong even as he thought it; he didn't think he could muster the sincerity to actually utter it aloud. He _was_ grateful, but he didn't think he was able to express it. He didn't exactly relish the thought of making small talk with the Gryffindor. He certainly wasn't going to act on the insane attraction so he didn't think he needed to speak with Colin. Ever. Their food came and he got a reprieve, taking long moments to enjoy each bite. He tried to ignore the heavy gaze he felt on him, fully aware Colin was watching him closely. He ignored the wolf preening under the smaller blonde's gaze. "Creevey," he warned softly.

Colin jumped, tearing his eyes away from Draco's pale pink lips, his eyes flicking up from where the older blonde was practically making out with his fork and looking into steely grey eyes. "Yes?" he squeaked.

"Stop staring at me," Draco said dryly. He tried to be annoyed, but he sounded amused, even to himself. He looked away when Colin's cheeks pinked and cursed himself when he found it adorable (and infuriatingly alluring). He was rather stupid to have come; getting stuck with Colin Creevey in a Muggle restaurant. It was almost laughable but he had no one to blame but himself. "So," he said, finally laying down his fork when he had eaten everything possible and wiped his mouth.

Neither blonde could pinpoint the moment they had started talking, not sharing awkward sentences or long uncomfortable pauses. Colin had found himself blurting out about his experience in first year, being petrified. He didn't remember any of it, but no one else needed to know that. He embellished slightly about the sight of the Basilisk, both from Harry's hesitant descriptions and having seen one later in a book. "They're just so... majestic. Beautiful, even," he said wistfully. "Such a terrible beauty."

"You're not serious," Draco accused. He had never heard a Basilisk described as such and coming from a Gryffindor it was... shocking. And a bit of a turn on.

Colin nodded emphatically. "Sure I am. Harry could _talk_ to it!" he gushed, sounding rather breathless. "All snakes really..." he mused, trailing off and staring off for a moment. "But I mean, he's pretty much the only one. And besides what it did, it was just… beautiful."

"You've got quite the surprising dark streak, Creevey," Draco murmured, shaking his head slightly. Colin just shrugged one shoulder, completely unaffected by the statement. His eyes widen as the younger blonde starts to talk about Necromancers and the dark art of Necromancy like a kid would about their favorite Quidditch teams. He phased out when he heard 'demons', uninterested and quite disturbed with the whole thing. It was a bit too close to something Old Snake Face would enjoy for his comfort. He perked up when he caught the mention of Weasley. "I hate that oaf," he muttered, uncaring what Colin had been saying previously and more than a little peeved to have the red-head brought up. He almost wished he had been paying attention when he saw Colin nod, brows pinched and a slight scowl on his face. Interesting.

Colin nodded. "Me too. He's such a _dick_," he mused. He could respect the way the red-head stuck my Harry but he didn't have to respect how he did it. It was only slightly reassuring to know that Harry seemed completely oblivious to Ron's methods, which was rather annoying and insulting. How could Harry not see Ron was going around thumping people and giving them nasty looks?

Draco soon found himself smiling (and laughing!) along with Colin's mocking of the Golden Trio, surprise flickering through him warmly when Colin even made fun of Harry I'm-So-Fucking-Amazing Potter. He hadn't realized how little love Colin had for most of his house; easily making fun of practically everyone in his house, but having the most to say about his dorm mates and the Golden Trio. "How are you a Gryffindor?" he mused aloud. He hadn't meant to say it out loud and by Colin's reaction he really should have tried harder to keep it to himself. He fought the urge to roll his lips together, refusing to admit he was in the wrong. Besides, it wasn't like the other blonde should be offended; not the way he had just been talking about his own bloody house.

"I dunno," Colin muttered, sagging in his chair. He didn't know if the Slytherin meant it as a compliment (knowing what Slytherins thought of Gryffindors) or an insult (again, knowing what Slytherins thought of Gryffindors). He had wondered the same thing a few times but it felt rather insulting to have someone else think it. "I am rather stupid; I do often do things without thinking first." He tried not to glare or stare pointedly at Draco sitting across from him. If he weren't stupidly brave, he never would have stolen from McGonagall, sent that stupid note and he wouldn't be sitting here with Draco Malfoy. He was _still_ wondering whether it was a good thing or not...

Draco hummed and leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, and studied the annoyed Gryffindor. He'd obviously struck a nerve and he was again irritated to find that he felt bad. He hated caring about others... "I didn't mean that in a bad way," he clarified after watching Colin struggle with his question, reading every emotion and thought that flickered over his open face. "Really," he stressed when Colin stared at him with a look of disbelief. "I only meant that you appear to be disillusioned of the Gryffindor house. That's not all that common..."

"Sure it is," Colin snorted. "We're not all that loyal of a bunch," he muttered, thinking of all the shit the Gryffindor house has put Harry Potter through over the years. And him, of course.

Draco hummed again and just barely caught himself smiling again. He shook his head, quite annoyed with himself. He should not be enjoying himself! He felt his palms get damp and he fought the urge to wipe them on his trousers. He needed to leave. Now.

"Well, no surprise there," he said, looking around. "I need to be getting back. Thanks," he said, patting his chest over the folded piece of parchment as he stood. He paused long enough to incline his head briefly before turning and striding out as fast as he could without looking like he was running off. He hurried to an abandoned street, sagging back against a wall for a moment as he caught his breath. He felt dizzy, a swirling mess of unwanted emotions going through him. It was infuriating! He would curse Colin if he thought it would help. He grumbled under his breath and grabbed the port-key, muttering the return phrase under his breath.

~o.O~

Draco rolled his eyes when he nearly collided with Pansy again. "Pansy," he said curtly, moving to walk past her. He brushed against her arm and he shuddered lightly with revulsion when he got a lungful of the flowery perfume she liked to wear. Anger surged through him and he grit his teeth, a bit confused at the sudden, warring emotions running through him. He grabbed Pansy's arm before she can leave. "Pansy," he said again, his voice a soft purr this time. This was probably the last time he could get the girl alone and he wasn't going to waste it. He'd prove, if only to himself, he could find someone other than Colin Creevey attractive…

"Draco," Pansy answered, an eyebrow raised. She knew that tone. She thought she had missed it. It was sexy as hell and usually had her ready to go in moments but it wasn't quite the same anymore. She let him pull her into a quiet corridor and watched him carefully. It was clear, unfortunately, that he was forcing himself to do this and she wanted to slap him for it. Did the git forget his confession about lusting after a boy? A Gryffindor boy? She nearly rolled her eyes, annoyance prickling through her at the knowledge of being used. "What's gotten into you?" she asked when he arranged her how he wanted and was millimeters away from kissing her. She certainly noted the way his eyes were tightly closed and he was holding his breath.

Well, that surely was a guaranteed way to get the knickers wet... She snorted and poked a finger into Draco's shoulder but the blonde didn't back away.

Draco sighed and slowly opened his eyes. "Nothing. I missed you," he said as casually as possible, keeping his voice low and (hopefully) alluring. He shuffled closer, trying to re-aquatint himself with the feeling of soft but firm breasts against his chest. He wanted to sigh and scream when it just didn't thrill him. Fucking Colin...

"Sure," Pansy snorted and worked a hand between them to push the blonde away a bit. She didn't want Draco in her space unless he was going to ravish her senseless. And since her fellow Slytherin was not going to be doing that... "You've managed to 'miss' me for almost two weeks."

Draco winced, unaware it had been so long. "See? I've had more than enough time to miss you," he murmured, trying to lean in again. He barely got close enough to brush their lips together before he was shoved away, a bit harder this time. "What! You aren't interested in me anymore?" he asked, trying not to sneer. It was one thing for _him_ to lose interest but quite another if Pansy had. It just wasn't on.

"No," Pansy said, flipping her hair. "Really," she insisted when Draco only raised an eyebrow and gave her an incredulous look. "You're sex on legs, Draco dear, don't think you aren't tempting but I'm not going to follow you around like some crup waiting for your attentions. Or quietly wait in the corner until you decide to play with me."

Draco stepped back another step and lowered his head, feeling shame worm through him uncomfortably. "I'm sorry," he murmured. Sure, he was aware he had been using Pansy but he hadn't realized she had known he was doing it. It made him feel like a flobberworm.

"Oh, Merlin," Pansy gasped, her eyes wide. "You apologized?" She laughed when Draco's eyes slowly looked up and pinned her with a fierce glare. "Oh, don't look at me like that. Malfoys don't apologize," she said importantly, obviously imitating him. "I should tear your bullocks off," she said in a conversational tone.

Draco blinked and worked on not gaping like a fool. "Why?" he finally blurted out, working on not cupping himself protectively. He really wouldn't put it past the witch to follow through.

"You used me."

Draco looked away, again feeling like a complete worm. Pansy deserved better than that. He couldn't deny it, because he _had_ used her. It seemed different when they were using each other... He didn't want to apologize to her again, though. "We used each other," he finally said, hoping a nice half-truth would calm the witch down. To an observer, Pansy didn't look upset but he knew her well enough to know the crossed arms (each palm cupping an elbow tightly), upraised chin and slightly narrow eyed look meant she was _this close_ to seething.

"At first, yes," Pansy said, narrowing her eyes for a moment. Draco looked rather contrite, so she felt most of her annoyance and anger drift away. "So, why did it change? What happened?" she asked, leaning forward with naked interest on her face.

Draco looked back at Pansy and fought the urge to sigh. "It's a very long, very private, story."

"I'm listening," Pansy said and waved her hand in a rather imperious 'go on' gesture. "You know I won't gossip about you."

Draco did know that. He'd told Pansy enough personal, private things over the years and none of it ever made it past her confidence. Still... this wasn't a bout of homesickness or a fear of disappointing his father (and/ or old Snake Face). These were quite literally life threatening issues. "I don't think I can, Pans," he said, trying to plead with his eyes for her to drop it. "I'd have to ask for a Wizard's Oath and that's just…" he trailed off.

"Insulting?" Pansy offered, pursing her lips and tapping her fingers in a rhythmic cadence on her elbows. It was indeed insulting that the git thought she needed to risk her life for his sordid little secrets.

Draco worked not to show how nervous he was. Tapping was bad. He nodded slowly. "Yes, insulting," he immediately agreed. He could very well see how she'd think it insulting. He felt it prudent, for both their sakes.

"I see," Pansy said quietly, turning her head to look down the corridor for a long moment before looking back at Draco. "Is that the only way you'll tell me?" Draco nodded, reluctantly -she was ever-so-slightly pleased to note. "Fine," she sighed, her arms dropping limply to her sides. She dragged Draco into the nearest abandoned classroom and cast the strongest privacy wards she could. "There. Let's do this."

Draco nodded dumbly, amazed and stunned stupid for a long moment. He raised his wand and they muttered the terms for the Oath. Pansy couldn't tell another person, living or dead, about what Draco would say without his express permission beforehand. They spent over 10 minutes, being Slytherin and adding any loophole either could think of to the binding words. After the red mist dissipated he sighed and told Pansy everything. He waited patiently while Pansy absorbed everything, knowing the moment everything filtered through when her gaze was back on him, intent and curious.

"Holy shit, Draco," Pansy breathed, a hand over her mouth muffling the words slightly. Her eyes were wide and she had managed, just barely, not to run out of the room. She looked the blonde over carefully, taking note of the subtle physical changes she had only recently noticed. She just figured Draco had had a growth spurt -admittedly, rather late and one hell of a growth spurt, but still...

His disappearances made sense now; she didn't blame him for removing himself when his features changed enough to be noticeable and she was proud of him for thinking of others and containing himself during his change. She paled, a thought occurring to her. "We've had sex, Draco… please tell me that's not a way to transmit the werewolf thing?" she asked in a whisper. Naturally, she felt rather silly asking at all as soon as the words were out. Draco said he had been bitten almost a year ago. She definitely would've noticed any... issues by now.

Sex had never been that rough... they both thought, with varying feelings on the subject. Pansy was torn between relief and regret and Draco was just rather skeptical, overall.

Draco laughed, unable to help himself. "It's not, don't worry Pansy. Biting only." He never approached Pansy too close to a full moon, either.

"Thank Merlin for that," Pansy sighed. She felt rather glad she had never encouraged Draco when he nibbled on her before. "So… you aren't just _lusting_ after Colin… He's your mate?" Draco nodded, looking decidedly less upset about it than he did earlier. "And Professor Snape knows all of this?"

Draco hummed and tapped a finger against his chin. "Not exactly. He knows I found my mate and that it's a man. But not who."

"Ah," Pansy giggled. "That's so funny. Why do you suppose it's him?" she asked, unwilling to say 'Colin' or 'Creevey'; Colin just made Draco glare at her with a strange possessive glare and Creevey made him fidget uncomfortably. It was obvious the blonde knew who she meant, though, as pink tinted his cheeks lightly. She bit the inside of her cheek on a coo, knowing Draco wouldn't appreciate it. She loved teasing him but she knew he'd stomp off in a huff and she wouldn't get any more information.

Draco shrugged, annoyed the witch had asked. He didn't know and it irritated him. "I don't know," he said curtly. The bits and pieces he had learned about Colin recently were eye-opening and he was becoming more and more confident they'd work past a physical attraction. It was fucking terrifying.

"Alright, alright," Pansy said soothingly, the effect ruined by another bout of giggles. She sobered quickly though, her posture straightening. "And you seriously found out, through Colin, the Dark Lord's weakness and are seriously considering killing him off yourself?" Draco nodded again. "Why?"

The blonde settled back in his chair and sighed, tucking his folded hands behind his head. "The bastard needs to be stopped. Who really cares if it's Potter or me? And if it's me? _I_ get the fame and glory, not ol' Scarhead," he added with a smirk. It was really the only motivation he needed. "And before you ask, no, I have no plans to succeed the bastard and pick up where he left off. It's an insane campaign that'll lead to our destruction and eventual discovery by Muggles." He didn't have a soft spot for Muggles but he was aware they were more than capable of defending themselves with deadly force that magic alone couldn't defend against. Muggle studies had taught him that much, at least.

"Wow," Pansy breathed, stunned once again. "Look at you, Mister I'm-A-Good-Guy…" she trailed off into another fit of giggles. She ignored Draco's rude hand gesture and calmed herself. "I'm guessing there's more you haven't included."

Draco shrugged. "Not really… that's all the important things, Pansy my dear."

"Uh huh. Sure. Where were you today? I couldn't find you anywhere in the castle?"

Draco fought the ridiculous urge to blush and looked away, feigning boredom. "Sneaked out for lunch."

"Mhm," Pansy hummed, shrewd eyes firmly on Draco. "With a sexy little destined blonde, no doubt." She went into another fit of giggles at Draco's telling non-verbal answer; flipping her off and turning away from him like a child. Honestly… "So… is it serious?"

Draco's brows furrowed. "Is what serious?" he asked, truly confused. He's told the witch too many things for her to expect any reasonable answer from such an open ended question.

"The thing with Colin," Pansy explained, rolling her eyes. "Do you love him? Do you want to be with him?" she asked, leaning forward again with keen interest. She's a lot less upset at the whole thing than she thought she would be. The little she knew about werewolves had her jealousy virtually non-existent, knowing that a mate was a big deal. Not all creatures found one, destined or not. She wanted to coo and hug the blonde Slytherin but she knew it would be a very bad idea. Draco wasn't a hugger and it was clear, by now, that he didn't want her touching him that intimately. It was almost offensive… Almost.

Draco stared off for a moment, thinking. He didn't know the answer to either question and shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, Pansy," he said with quiet honesty. "Part of me does…"

"Well, I really don't think fighting it is the way to go." When Draco's eyes snap to her, she shrugged. "I've noticed you keeping your distance. I really don't think it'll help. If it's any consolation, Colin follows you around more than he does Potter."

Draco snorted; that was, very oddly, a comforting thought.

~O.o~

Colin slunk through the portrait hole, sighing quietly when he saw the common room was empty. He had feared running into Weasley, sure the older boy had noticed him listening in on their last conversation. Honestly, though, if it was _that_ private, they shouldn't talk in the library without a privacy charm. He headed towards his favorite chair, content to read more of his book. He was fascinated to read about the different myths and legends that surrounded Hogwarts and the four founders. If any of the relics mentioned were real, it would be amazing. Just the very idea of the Dark Sword made him shiver with possibilities. He turned to sit and his saw an abandoned sheet of parchment on a table. The table the Golden Trio liked to sit at. He hurried over and snatched the paper up when he recognized Harry's messy scrawl.

He barely got a few sentences in and his hands starting to shake with excitement as he read. More notes on Voldemort! The last time he had listened in, they'd only figured out two horcruxes. If this was to be trusted… they knew of four now. He jumped when he heard a door bang and quickly tucked the paper in his pocket and ran to the chair. Just as Ron walked in, he was quite sure he looked the picture of innocence as he read his book. He noticed Ron look towards the table, his blue eyes widening and he cursed himself for taking the parchment. He should have put it back; the red-head never would have known it had been read.

"Creevey," Ron barked, his eyes narrowed on the annoying blonde.

Colin slowly turned his head and feigned surprise. "Hey Ron!"

"Uh huh," Ron mumbled dismissively. "Did you see a piece of parchment here?"

Colin thought furiously. If he said yes, he'd have to admit he took it. If he refused, he might be pressed into looking for it. "No," he said, shifting his face into a look of confusion. "You leave your homework to the last minute again?" he teased. He shrunk back into his chair when Ron stalked over, his face dark with anger. Right. Don't joke around with Weasley.

"Shut up, Creevey," Ron muttered. "Anyone else been here in the past few minutes?" he asked, eyes flicking around the room, hoping to spot the parchment under a surface. Hermione was going to gut him (then whinge and give him a fucking lecture for _hours_) for losing it. He promised it had been in his pocket. He looked back at Colin, eyes narrowed when the blonde shook his head calmly. "So, that means you're the only one that could've seen it."

Colin shook his head, probably a bit more emphatically than he should've to keep the air of ignorance. He yelped when he was grabbed by the front of his robes and pulled from his chair, a wand tip jabbing painfully into his neck. "I didn't see it!" he squeaked.

"You better not have," Ron threatened. He dropped Colin but didn't drop his wand. "I'm only asking once more; did you see a parchment on that table?"

Colin shook his head, fighting the urge to slide his hand up to the pocket the parchment was in. Ron might not be dumb enough to miss the move and pummel him. "No, I haven't. I can help you look around?" he offered. He nearly relaxed when Ron gave him a considering look. He cried out when he felt a harsh burning sting sizzle across his chest and he fell back against the chair. He screamed again, louder, as another hex hit him. He whimpered and gaped rather stupidly when he saw blood bloom on his sleeve. He stared wide-eyed at it, stunned Weasley would've done such a thing; right in the common room, no less! He broke his shock with a shake of his shoulders and threw a foot out, putting all his weight and strength into it and smiled with satisfaction when a pained yowl (and a satisfyingly painful, wet sounding crunch) came from Ron.

"You bastard!" Ron howled, cradling his injured leg. He should have expected a Muggleborn to fight dirty. He raised his wand again, a stinging hex on the tip of his tongue, but it was smacked away. He reacted, a fist flying and he grinned with vicious glee to feel it connect with crack and a pained moan sounded immediately after. He could now see the appeal in fighting in such a way. He shook the momentary pain off and hobbled over to stand over Colin. "Where is it?" he said lowly, a foot raised and poised over Colin's crotch. He knew that would hurt (and honestly nearly cringing at causing such pain to a fellow bloke) and he found himself hoping Creevey gave him a reason to stomp down. He could feel that Colin had their parchment and he was starting to panic, hoping the blonde didn't understand a word any of them had written. Even Harry would be righteously pissed if he knew Colin saw it. It was bad enough he'd forgotten it in the first place...

Colin swallowed heavily a few times, blinking furiously, trying to make sense of what's happened in the past few moments. He wanted to whimper again when he realized Ron was going to stomp on his dick regardless of what he said. "I haven't seen anything!" he screamed, bringing his knees up in a bid to protect himself. He really doesn't know if Ron knows he lying or just beating him up because he wants to. He flinched, watching Ron's foot descend and shrieked when he felt white-hot pain bloom from the chest down and thankfully everything went dark.

~o.O~

"Colin?"

Colin grunted, his body feeling fuzzy, heavy and achy. He cracked an eye open and hissed when the dim lighting shot through his eyelids and pain flared through his head. "Where am I?" he croaked, letting his eyes close again with a soft sigh of relief. He didn't recognize the bed he was laying on and he nearly whimpered when he felt sure he was in the medical wing. The scratchy sheets and stiff pajamas were uncomfortably familiar...

"Medical wing."

Colin turned his head, whimpering as another bolt of pain speared through him, trying to see who was speaking. He couldn't tell who it was, other than a male. "Who…" he trailed off with a croak, his throat dry. A straw was pushed against his lips and he took a few small sips, sighing with relief as the water soothed his throat. "Who're you?" he asked.

"Draco."

Colin's eyes shot open, uncaring of the potential for pain and he stared stupidly at the blonde sitting next to his bed. He was sitting tall but stiffly and a pale hand was resting along the edge of the blankets. "Oh, Merlin," he whispered, stunned. Why was Draco here? Oh god, was he dead? He couldn't think of any other explanation and he nearly panicked. He took as deep a breath as he could and a feeling of calm settled over him and he reached a hand out to cover the warm, pale one resting on the edge of his bed. Well, if he was dead, he was going to get the full experience. He wanted to yank that hand and have Draco tumble over top of him. Or crawl into the Slytherins' lap. Either would be heavenly. He settled for stroking along the long fingers before weaving his between them.

"You were found in the common room," Draco started, staring at their interlocked hands. He hadn't a clue why Colin did that but he wasn't about to disentangle their hands. It felt… nice. And it was obviously comforting the smaller blonde. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked softly. He had seen Potter running through the halls, carrying Colin and he had immediately followed. He nearly hexed the Gryffindor git, thinking he had been the one to hurt Colin. Naturally, he hadn't; he came to Colin's rescue (too late to be of use, in Draco's opinion) and brought the smaller Gryffindor in when he found him. He didn't speak to Potter, but he did manage a curt nod that the other boy returned after staring wide-eyed for a long moment. The fool.

Colin nodded, whimpering with the movement. He glanced up with adoration and gratitude when Draco tutted him and stilled the movements, Draco's free hand coming up to rest against his forehead to keep it still. He _had_ to be dead; Draco wouldn't care if he had hurt himself or not. "Ron."

"Weasley?" Draco asked, confused. Then his entire body tensed, his expression going murderous. He hadn't realized he had tightened his hand around Colin's until he felt the Gryffindor wiggling it. He stared at the emerging claws and silently breathed with relief he hadn't hurt Colin in his rage. He looked up, oddly relieved all over again Colin made no move to hide or shown any fear. "He did this to you?"

Colin nodded, slowly and minutely; just enough to make an affirmative known. It was erotic _and_ scary to see Draco looking like that… He felt warm, really warm, to think Draco was reacting like that for _him_. "He did. Didn't he have to see Madam Pomfrey?" he asked softly, hoping he had done enough damage to have the red-head here, too. He could've sworn he heard something snap but the finer details were fuzzy.

"Yes," Draco said shortly, his eyes flicking over to the right briefly. He really should have known the arsehole being there was connected to Colin somehow. He didn't blame himself too much, though; it was outrageous to think the two Gryffindors had done such things to each other. "He wouldn't say what happened when Madam Pomfrey asked. Told Potter he tripped coming from the Owlry…" he trailed off, a snarl in his voice and on his face.

He realized his free hand was tightly clenched, claws digging into one palm and made a very deliberate effort to calm himself down. It wouldn't do to run over there and tear Weasley apart with his bare hands. Though he wanted to. Very fucking badly. It stunned him to react so violently; he literally saw red when Colin had whispered 'Ron'. Was this even normal? They had barely even kissed and he was _this_ worked up? He couldn't stop the corner of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile when Colin snorted and rolled his eyes. "Did you do that to him?" he asked, a smile twitching his lips as he remembered the state Weasley had been in. He felt rather proud Colin hadn't simply curled up and took the beating without giving something back.

Colin hummed, a grin slowly growing on his face. "I did," he said proudly, his chest puffing up as much as he could without coughing. "What's wrong with him?" he asked, wishing he could go see the prat.

"Broken knee and a missing testicle," Draco said, his voice strained with laughter. He chuckled, pleased his Colin gave the red-headed bastard something to remember. He gently ran a finger down Colin's cheek, jerking his finger away quickly when Colin's eyes moved to focus intently on his. It was overwhelming. Too much… "You should be released tomorrow morning," he said, trying to sound cheerful. Well, as cheerful as he got, anyway. Colin's bruises were still fading, most a sickly yellow, but everything else was healed up. He knew Madam Pomfrey won't tell him what happened and he was itching to know. He _needed_ to know. He had to know just what sort of payback Weasley had coming for thinking he could lay a finger on what was his.

Colin giggled, groaning softly when it made everything throb and ache. "Good," he said. He looked back up at Draco, surprised but very pleased he was still there. He now knew he wasn't dreaming or dead, feeling rather silly he had even thought it, he wouldn't be hurting so much if that were the case. "Why are you here?" he asked quietly. He rolled his lips, biting them from the inside when Draco tensed and looked away. He nearly whined in regret, wishing he hadn't opened his big, stupid mouth.

"I'll tell you later," Draco said dismissively, gently untangling their hands and leaving the medical wing with quick strides.

In seconds, Colin was alone. It was so quick, his hand was still pleasantly warm. He sighed and closed his eyes. Well, that was a stupid thing to do. He ruined a perfectly good moment with stupid questions. Damn. He really didn't know if Draco would tell him later or not and he found himself hoping he'd see the Slytherin again.


End file.
